


Ice Trilogy

by daymarket



Category: Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Angst, Diary, F/M, Remix, family!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-01
Updated: 2007-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daymarket/pseuds/daymarket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three looks into Morzan's diary, recounting his courtship with Selena and the years that follow. Written before Brisingr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Silvered Ice

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rose Trilogy](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/8986) by Silver Pup. 



> Counterpart to Silver Pup's Roses Trilogy (written from Selena's POV). Saved from FF.net.
> 
> Vietnamese translation by the Dark Emi of _Silvered Ice_ [here!](http://lieutuyphong.wordpress.com/2012/07/17/inheritance-cycle-silvered-ice/)
> 
> Italian translation by Renes Mikaelson of all three parts can be found [here!](https://www.efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=3662333&i=1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Counterpart to Silver Pup's Black Roses.

**_Day 4 of Retniw, 367 AR_ **

A wonderful surprise awaited me this morning as I woke—it's snowed! White, white, beautiful white covers everything. Aderes was griping, of course, whining about how snow and dragons do not mix. I've tried to tell him repeatedly that Eoin doesn't mind it and neither does Rispah, but he just snaps at me and goes off to sulk.

Galbatorix seems to be in a similarly bad mood, seeing as nobody wishes to approach him. As he's locked the throne room's doors, nobody can even _try_ to reason with him.

I don't care. It's finally snowed, and I'm not going to spend the rest of the day inside. Even if Aderes won't join me, I'm going out.

**_Day 5 of Retniw, 367 AR_ **

Well.

Now I know what Galbatorix was so angry about yesterday. To be accurate, actually, the whole palace found at the same time. Dramatic shrieking from the top of the battlements (accompanied by forked lightning, of course) has a tendency to do that.

Ewin is dead, and so is Willimae. I haven't got the full details yet, but apparently it has something to do with the Varden. Poison, perhaps? Ewin was always too arrogant for his own good, never bothering to check his food.

Personally, I'm glad he's dead. So is Aderes, even if he won't admit it.

**_Day 21 of Retniw, 367 AR_ **

A blizzard swept through Uru'baen today. I'm deliriously happy. Snow!

The Solstice Ball is only ten days away, and already the palace is bedecked with lacy ribbons and glittering crystals. The ladies are getting themselves ready, too, picking out their partners for the ball.

I don't know if I'll attend this year. Aderes keeps on telling me that I should, but somehow I don't feel quite up to the mincing flattery that makes up the court. Not to mention the fact that Galbatorix seems to be up to something.

**_Day 24 of Retniw, 367 AR_ **

Today I opened my door to find at least twenty invitations all piled up in front of my door. I have two duchesses, one baroness, and myriad younger daughters all wanting my hand in the ball. Four more than last year, actually.

Aderes laughed so hard I thought he would choke. We poked through the invitations and he says that I should choose Lady Amelia von Sviniya, if nothing for the fact that 'sviniya' means 'snow' in the ancient language.

**_Day 27 of Retniw, 367 AR_ **

I went to see Galbatorix today, and he actually let me in. Surprise, surprise. Apparently, he's been busy tracking down Ewin's killer—turns out it was a knife that killed the fool, one that was coated with Espita Fricai. He's traced him down to somewhere around Ceunon, and should have more information at the end of the week.

We talked a bit about the Solstice Ball, and for some reason he agrees with Aderes in that I should choose Lady Amelia. When I asked him about it, all he did was smile in the maddening way of his and look extremely wise. Well, that doesn't fool me—I was there when he accidentally misfired a spell and ended up with yellow muck in his hair.

He's in a much better mood now.

**_Day 32 of Retniw, 367 AR_ **

In the end I finally chose Lady Amelia, mostly because Aderes kept taunting me about it. I went expecting nothing much—considering I've never actually talked to her, she was most likely going to be one of those shrinking mice who squeak at the sight of a dragon.

But no. I was surprised, albeit pleasantly, at the level of intelligence she shows. She has quite a grasp of politics. Most women barely even know how much dukes there are, but not her. Even though we talked nothing of it, I suspect that she has had lessons about magic and may even be able to use it herself.

I spent the night at her suite as well as four bottles of wine. I didn't touch any of it, but Lady Amelia had quite the weakness for champagne. It was an interesting night, to say the least.

**_Day 39 of Retniw, 367 AR_ **

I was wondering why Galbatorix never called me to search for Ewin's killer, but I found out today. He sent Rossin and Eoin out instead.

I'm furious. How could he? No, I didn't like Ewin, but that assignment was _mine_. He's favoring that idiot Rossin? That ninny can barely lift his sword, much less use it! But when I went to the throne room to demand why, the guards stopped me. Apparently, his royal majesty does not wish to see me at this time.

This is absurd. Fine. He doesn't want me, then? I'll go. I'm leaving court this afternoon. If Galbatorix finally decides that he can make time in his busy schedule, then he can come summon me himself.

**_Day 42 of Retniw, 367 AR_ **

Aderes and I have settled near Tiidosten, in the small clump of woods near it. Despite Aderes's constant moaning, I know him well enough that he's enjoying this. That dragon lives to whine.

It's nice out here. Quiet and peaceful, a far cry from the bustle of court. Furnost is on the other side of the lake, so I doubt anyone will disturb me here.

**_Day 19 of Ginrps, 368 AR_ **

It's finally happened. The summons, I mean. Aderes and I were coming back from fishing when Rispah flew overhead, carrying a very pissed off Taron and a message from Galbatorix.

Rossin returned half-dead, with a mysterious "grave injury". It was an ambush after all; the Varden knew that he was going to come investigate and laid a trap for him near the root of the Anora River. I find it sobering, a little—it might have been me, although I pride myself on saying that I would've been more careful than Rossin, at least.

I'm returning to court tomorrow. On another tack, I think Aderes likes Rispah. They seem rather affectionate with each other.

**_Day 20 of Ginrps, 368 AR_ **

He apologized, at least. Now that Rossin is disabled, the emperor of Alagaesia has finally deigned to notice me and graciously give me the assignment that should've been mine one bloody season ago. Or a twisted version of it, anyway—whoever attacked Rossin and Ewin is likely to be moving southward, trying to reach the safety of the Varden. I'm to search the area from Yazuac to Narda to find this mysterious assassin.

I thought I did a fairly good job of hiding my anger, but I think he knows how angry I am, anyway. The thing is, I used to think I knew him well—I was his first student, after all, and I've known him the longest. But he seemed…I don't know, distant today.

He couldn't be worrying over Rossin, could he? I was under the impression that he despised Rossin. Or maybe that was just another mask put on for my benefit.

As I was leaving the throne room, I 'bumped' into Lady Amelia. I am pleased to say the lady is as fair as ever, and twice as canny.

**_Day 25 of Ginrps, 368 AR_ **

It is harder than it sounds to actually search a city for an assassin. Yes, I can do it mentally, but it takes an extraordinary mind to peak out of seething mass of humanity. I finished Yazuac about two days ago and have started on Narda, but there's still nothing.

I'm really starting to get a headache. But I'm determined to keep at it—I won't let Galbatorix down.

**_Day 31 of Ginrps, 368 AR_ **

Nothing still. Moving down to check Daret.

**_Day 35 of Ginrps, 368 AR_ **

Nobody in Daret, either. Heading to Gil'ead.

**_Day 39 of Ginrps, 368AR_ **

Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

I'm going back to Uru'baen. I've searched and searched and there's no trace of any assassin—human, animal, or otherwise. It's enough to drive me mad.

Hopefully, Galbatorix won't be too angry.

**_Day 40 of Ginrps, 368 AR_ **

Rossin is dead.

How? It's a long story. When I returned to Uru'baen (half-expecting to get yelled at, may I mention) the thorn room was empty. It took me quite a while to finally find Galbatorix near the stables, grooming Warbanner with a pale expression on his face.

He told me what happened. Apparently, Rossin and Mirimel were attacked somewhere on the outskirts of Yazuac. Rossin was injured gravely, and Mirimel managed to bring him back to Uru'baen. By the time Galbatorix could get to Rossin, though, it was too late. His brain (or something similar to it) had been bleeding within the skull all that time. Despite Galbatorix's efforts to keep him alive, Rossin couldn't be resuscitated and died two days after I set out for Yazuac. Mirimel died with him.

The thought is frightening. In the past two seasons, two of us have died. True, Rossin and Ewin were idiots, but now there are only seven out of the original thirteen left. It seems strange that after surviving so many years, two of us should enter the void so close to each other.

Galbatorix and I went riding in the woods afterward. I think the fresh air did Galbatorix some good, because his color certainly looks much better now. At least he has something to take his mind off the deaths.

**_Day 47 of Ginrps, 368 AR_ **

I met Lady Amelia today while riding around the woods. The lady never fails to surprise me—she is a very good shot, and can ride a horse as well as any man while still managing to look completely ladylike.

Aderes seems to disapprove of Lady Amelia. I find this rather ironic, since he was the one who told me to choose her for the Ball in the first place. When I point this out to him, though, he just sniffs and tells me that first appearances can be deceiving.

I went into the library and checked up the Sviniya family records. Lady Amelia is the eldest daughter in a family of six women; she has been named the heir, seeing as there's no son in the family. Her family owns estates upwards of Ceunon and the title of count. Not particularly impressive, but nothing shoddy, either.

I half-wonder what she's at court for. As heiress, she needn't marry unless she wishes to have an heir from her own lineage. Time will tell, I suppose.

**_Day 75 of Ginrps, 368 AR_ **

The past few weeks have been fairly quiet. I am continuing to see Lady Amelia almost every day and night, studiously ignoring Aderes's pointed glares. I must admit that it's starting to grate on my nerves, though. He warns me to not to get her with child, but I resent being condescended to as if I were a child. Of course I'm not going to get her pregnant. I don't want the responsibility of an illegitimate brat on my hands.

My suspicions were correct—Lady Amelia indeed does know how to use magic. So far I have seen her do rudimentary magic only—lighting candles, opening doors, so on and so forth. It will be interesting to see how far her abilities stretch, however.

Lady Amelia will be leaving in about three weeks for her fourth sister's wedding to Baron Draywicks. She'll be back for court when the social season at court begins again some months from now.

**_Day 6 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

Lady Amelia left today, but I have no time to gripe. Lord Bartlemus, governor of Teirm, has reported 'serious tax discrepancies' in the finance accountings. Honestly, though. How does one 'tax discrepancy' twenty-three thousand, six hundred and twelve gold crowns? Considering that's enough to build a castle.

It might seem like grunt work, but I'm glad to have something to do. At least I won't be spending the empty season in the palace, bored to death and marking the days by how many rabbits I've killed. Everybody always returns to their estates, anyway, but Argelin takes care of the holdings I have.

I leave tomorrow.

**_Day 8 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

Bartlemus has found me lodgings in a decent inn that looks out over Leona Lake. The man was all a-flutter, trying to coax me into the crumbling heap he has for a castle, but I much prefer the solitude out here. Besides, Aderes can't fit into Teirm without causing mass panic.

I have borrowed the financial and tax records and am poring over them. Only one word can describe such an act—dull. Even hunting rabbits shines by comparison.

**_Day 14 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

I take back the rabbit comment. Do you know? Almost every single merchant sending goods in and out of Teirm has had just a _little_ scraped off their payments. I got a little suspicious; it's far too widespread to be a case of simple tax evasion.

So, I decided to look deeper into records stretching over the past couple years. The problem actually goes to about ten years back, with about a thousand or so crowns missing per year. And here we come to the question—why did the difference suddenly jump from one thousand to twenty-three? And where is all that missing money going?

The merchants make their tax payments to the department of finances up in the castle, and the secretaries there then total up the amounts a day or two after the crowns are received. Somebody must have the ability to infiltrate the treasuries, unlock the payment chests, and smuggle the crowns out without getting caught. That somebody would most likely work in that department as a steward, for only they have the necessary counterspells to open the chests.

There are a total of eleven stewards who have the ability to access the treasuries. I've told Bartlemus to keep each of them under careful watch. The differences are still growing—that means whichever steward it is, they're still stealing. They must have accomplices, too, for this is far too big a job for one lone man.

**_Day 29 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

Incompetence! Do I have to hold their hands for them, too? Maybe dress them up in pretty bonnets and lead them out for a walk? The _fools!_ How could they? They lost him, the stupid bastards!

One of the stewards was caught trying to smuggle yet another package of crowns out last night, but—oh, this is rich—one of the five guards was in the latrine at the time, one of them was out with a woman, and two of them were drinking down bottle after bottle of rum! The one who who had sense enough to stay alert went after him, but the man managed to brain him with a pipe and so make good his escape.

This is disgusting. I'll have their skin, see if I don't. Now I have to place an embargo on all routes in and out of the city, as well as lock the city gate. I've put those four slackers in jail with orders for execution if that pox-cursed steward gets away.

**_Day 30 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

Between the time of yesterday's entry and the city executing a trade embargo, one ship and one caravan managed to leave. I have my suspicions pinned on the caravan—the ship carries restricted items and goes straight to Dras-Leona under guard of the Ra'zac on their foul mountain, and any thief on that ship would be committing virtual suicide.

Still. I'll place a watch for the ship just in case. As for the caravan, its travel itinerary indicates a route through Jenster Pass of the Coastal Mountains before heading to Gil'ead. Shouldn't be too hard to find.

**_Day 32 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

I have him. I have him in sight, anyway, writing this on Aderes's back at several thousand feet in the air. Right now his twitchy little mind is exhibiting tentative declarations of joy at having escaped imperial justice. Ha!

I think I'll wait. I'm in no hurry, after all. If I seize him now, he may be able to commit suicide with magic before I can get anything from his mind. If I let him go on his merry way, maybe I'll be able to see who he's been stealing all that money for as well as his contacts and accomplices. Perhaps the Varden? Or is it a private enterprise? If it's the latter, I must applaud his ingenuity at gaining such lucrative capital.

For now, Aderes is getting rather peckish and there are some deer about two miles away. I wonder how long it will take to get to Gil'ead by land?

**_Day 41 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

Whoever is leading the caravan must be wringing his hands and dithering at his own stupidity. They've completely missed Jenster Pass, picking instead a long-winded route that trawls back and forth through the mountains.

I find this enormously amusing. Amazingly enough, crowns made out of gold are worthless when there's not a shop to be found. The former steward (Ebroin) has found this out, much to his dismay. They'll be reduced to eating the cargo soon, and after that they'll be boiling their shoes for leather.

The solitude is wonderful. It's just Aderes and I, out in these wild mountains alone.

**_Day 45 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

Nothing particularly special happened today, unless you count the fifth broken wheel they've had. I'm getting bored of this game, amusing as it is. A clear road through the mountains is right under their noses, yet they insist on climbing the highest passes and getting trapped in knee-high snow.

Even so far into the season, the very highest of the Coastal Mountains are layered with white. The snow is beautiful, elegant, and coldly perfect. It reflects what little of the sun there is with a shining glory, but absorbing none of its warmth.

It rather reminds me of Lady Amelia.

**_Day 53 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

The idiots finally made it through the mountains. Ebroin is still with them, though considerably thinner.

At their current pace, it should take them about twelve more days to reach Uru'baen. Unless, of course, the caravan master once again displays a genius streak of getting lost and ends up going back over the mountains again.

**_Day 55 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

Ebroin has decided that Gil'ead is not for him and has slipped off the caravan. There's a tiny village along the foot of the mountains, just a few miles away from Flam Lake. He's holing down there for now.

Well, fun as this was, all games must end. I'll arrest him tomorrow.

**_Day 56 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

Whore! Bitch! I'll rip out her heart and feed it to the dogs. Leave her dangling for the crows, where they can rot from here to eternity if that's what it takes—

Shut up, Aderes. I don't need to justify myself to you. _She had no right_. Cursed woman, I'll kill her. Tear out her bloody guts and dangle them on the wall! She started the riot; she was screaming like a lunatic and managed to catch the damned notice of everybody.

Ebroin managed to get away while the whole village tried to lynch me. Damn them! They were taking up that bitch's chant, something along the lines of, _"Gods curse you, Morzan! Killer! Murderer!_ "

I'll destroy them all. The Empire can survive without citizens like these. And as for that whore, I'll teach her to spout lies to my face.

**_Day 57 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

I am writing this from a few miles away, watching the remnants of the village vanish in a leaping bonfire. The woman should still be alive, but not for long.

They got what they deserved.

**_Day 72 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

I have Ebroin's trail again. He's in Daret.

**_Day 75 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

Got him. He's dead now, but I have some very interesting information for Galbatorix. Heading back to Uru'baen.

**_Day 77 of Remmus, 368 AR_ **

Galbatorix was interested to hear what I had to say, and we have pinpointed the location of the smuggling headquarters. Or a vague radius of it, anyway, which is just as well.

The crown-theft goes much deeper than just Ebroin. The thefts have occurred in several other cities, but nothing like the twenty-something thousand crowns that vanished from Teirm. What I think happened there was a mixture of bad luck and stupidity—perhaps a real merchant wanted to cheat on his taxes and the loss compounded, or else there was another batch of (uncaught) thieves, or the accountant who entered the taxes added an extra zero to the end. But anyway, that's beside the point.

Ebroin is an agent of the Varden. One of several, actually, placed in strategic cities to steal funds. After all, rebelling against the Empire must be nice and costly, and they can't just rely on herding goats or whatever it is they do in order to gain income.

The crowns Ebroin stole were to go to somebody he called Weedgrasp. A codename of some sort. Galbatorix and I have pored over census and tax records—a shipping business up and down the Ninor River is called _Brushspurn Shipping_ , after the family who founded the business. Brushspurn is a weed, in case you've forgotten—a vile little thing that chokes out other vegetation.

Perhaps, if I track this to the root, I can even find out where the Varden is.

**_Day 1 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

I have established a little lair along the coast of Isenstar Lake, near the woods. Aderes seems content to chew his way through the aquatic population while I search.

Brushspurn Shipping is apparently quite lucrative. At least twenty percent of the barges going up and down the Ninor belong to the business. By Weedgrasp, did Ebroin mean somebody directly connected to the business? Or perhaps it was coined by the place they usually met, by the harbor?

I shall have to be discreet. If I'm too obvious, then I might scare this mysterious contact away. And of course, we wouldn't want to do that, would we?

**_Day 17 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

Well, the contact is definitely nobody in the Brushspurn family. I have checked every single one mentally and thoroughly, and I can't find a speck of anything even vaguely treacherous. Unless you count the rather saucy thoughts Jerrold Brushspurn has been having about the maid in the Lemon's Inn. Have I mentioned he's married?

Somebody stumbled near my hideout today. A girl and a speckled dog.

**_Day 20 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

I felt something odd today while casting out mentally near Gil'ead. It lasted for only an instant, but I'm still struggling to place it. The mind felt familiar, somehow, and what I did get was teeming with thoughts of the Varden. Only, a split-second after I touched it, the mind cloaked itself and vanished.

Who _was_ it? I have a feeling this will come back to haunt me.

**_Day 23 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

I saw the girl-with-dog again today, and I'm wondering what possessed me to say what I did, the way I did. But that's only a rhetorical question, because I know perfectly well. She reminds me of that woman, back in that village.

They look somewhat alike (as in somewhat dirty), but it's her voice that is so similar. I was standing with my back to her, and the first time she spoke I thought that whore was coming back to life to take vengeance.

Her name is Selena.

**_Day 25 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

Brom! That's who it is. I've just woken up and all of a sudden I could place the mind I felt. _Brom!_

He's still alive, then! He's been gone so long I'd assumed he committed suicide long ago. I can still remember how he was after Saphira's death. Almost insane.

I saw Selena again today.

**_Day 30 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

I'm being a fool. I find myself aimlessly dallying in the mornings, waiting for Selena to arrive before beginning the day's search. What am I trying to do? Avoid Brom? It's ridiculous, putting off the inevitable.

Saphira's death keeps playing itself over and over again in my mind. It's like an itch I can't scratch, and I despise it. While Brom was a naïve little country boy, Saphira...she knew things. She was much more perceptive than Brom. I wonder if she knew, in the end.

I distracted myself by going for a walk. Again, I bumped into Selena.

I wonder. Isn't she afraid? Considering who I am?

**_Day 42 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

I've combed Daret, Yazuac, and Gil'ead from top to bottom as thoroughly as possible, and I can find no indication of Brom. He seems to have vanished without a trace; if anybody knows, they can hide it well enough that I can't find it in their minds.

If Brom is gone, then Ebroin's contact most certainly is gone, too. There's no point in me staying here anymore.

Perhaps I'm in denial, but I don't wish to leave. Isenstar is beautiful, especially during sunrise and sunset. The waters are pure and clean, and I find better hunting here than that of the worn forests near Uru'baen. I'm not bothered here by dithering servants, and I don't have to put up the play of thinly sheathed knives of court. True, Selena comes each day, but she doesn't annoy me in the least.

Even the thought of Lady Amelia cannot tempt me away.

**_Day 47 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

Selena met Aderes today, which surprises me. Mostly, Aderes has two responses to strangers—flame them or disdain them. I can count on one hand the number of times he's had a true conversation with anyone who's not a dragon or Rider.

He was tactiturn about the contents of the conversation, but that's nothing new. Aderes is always a bit of a grump. It's part of his dubious charm. Still, if he actually condescended to talk to her, it couldn't have been too bad.

**_Day 54 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

Selena asked me yesterday about flying, and so today I brought her to see the sunset over Isenstar. The sun illuminates everything with an ethereal orange glow, and you can see the shadows of birds as they fly home to their roosts.

We saw a swan, too, guarding his mate and their clutch of eggs. Selena laughed in that charmingly innocent way of hers as the swan looked at us with one stately eye, judging us as no threat to his eggs.

Aderes joined us later as we fished, providing us with a brilliant light show as he exploded out of the water. He seems to find her company acceptable, which is more than what I can say for his attitude regarding Lady Amelia.

We spent the evening walking along the lake, with the dying sun reflecting off her auburn hair.

**_Day 56 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

Galbatorix contacted me in a dream today. There is trouble on my estates—Argelin, my chief steward, is dead. The cause has not been determined. He would say no more, and it's clear that I must return.

I will be sorry to leave, especially for Selena. I doubt I will find another person who will not judge me beforehand, especially considering how I am perceived in Alagaesia.

**_Day 60 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

I have returned to my holdings to find mass panic. Argelin is dead, all right, in a spectacularly bloody way—he has been beheaded, with the head displayed on the castle's main chandelier. Nothing has been touched; the servants left the scene alone.

I must admit I was unsettled at the sight. My foremost image of Argelin is as a responsible, lightly graying man whose face seems incapable of any expression other than a solemn frown. But his death grimace is a grotesque scream of laughter, his mouth twisted and eyes bulging.

_Déjà vu._

I will find whoever did this. It's the least I can do to avenge one of my best servants.

**_Day 63 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

Gregor. That's who did it. Apparently, I've "gotten ahead of myself" and taken what he sees to be _his_ place in the kingdom, at Galbatorix's right hand. That smug little toad was so obvious about it, leaving traces of his muck all over where only a blind man could miss it.

I don't know if he meant this as a playful banter, but I'm certainly not laughing. It will take me weeks upon weeks to find and train a new steward who I can trust to keep his mouth shut. Gregor has overstepped himself this time—our wars are to be kept amongst ourselves, and I will see that he learns the error of his ways.

**_Day 70 of Nmatua, 368 AR_ **

Gregor has vanished off the surface of Alagaesia, or so it seems. More likely the little twit is hiding, thinking that he can try to escape me.

I can wait for the rabbit to come out. In the meantime, I am occupied with trying to find a new steward. Argelin had no family to succeed him—none that I trust, anyway.

**_Day 2 of Retniw, 368 AR_ **

I have found somebody who might be suitable. Triannon has worked in my estates for sixteen years, and carries authority quite well. I have searched her mind discreetly and have found no trace of treason or disloyalty.

She seems willing to take on Argelin's role. If all goes well, I may return to court in a couple of weeks.

**_Day 25 of Retniw, 368 AR_ **

I detest court.

It seems to be made out of nothing but gossip and hidden glances. Alone in the solitude of Isenstar, I seem to have forgotten how much people will jump at the slightest rumor, eagerly ripping it apart with sly looks and muffled whispers.

I don't know what caused it, but I awoke today in a cold sweat. I see that woman again and again, her face contorted as she screams the chant— _Murderer, killer, destroyer._ And then it changes, fire licking over her torn veins, the ghostly flickers dancing in my vision like a curse.

I feel vaguely sick, but I can't get back to sleep. Why is this happening now? I had no regrets when she first died.

**_Day 27 of Retniw, 368 AR_ **

I find it hard to sleep these days under the splendor of the palace. Tonight I'll go see if Aderes has room for me in his woodland roost. Perhaps the wild will be better, where I can be alone of my own choice.

**_Day 29 of Retniw, 368 AR_ **

Lady Amelia is back again, but I have avoided her for the better part of two days. In truth, I feel slightly distant. Galbatorix jokes that this happens to me every time I 'go camping', that I am far too much of a solitary Rider to blend in gracefully with society. Or perhaps it's just certain people—Selena did not irritate me the way these pompous lumps do.

**_Day 32 of Retniw, 368 AR_ **

The Solstice Ball was yesterday, and Lady Amelia tried again and again to lure me into attending as her consort. I declined, but she persisted so badly I left the palace in search of relief.

I spent most of the Ball outside in the woods, with Aderes. I don't think I'm quite prepared to attend court yet, much less something as hideously flowered as the Solstice Ball.

**_Day 36 of Retniw, 368 AR_ **

Galbatorix came to see me today, and though he said nothing as direct, I realize that his implied meaning is true. I cannot continue to live with my head in the clouds, lost in wistful memories of a perfect world where nothing is predetermined. What's lost is lost.

I have moved back into the palace.

**_Day 41 of Retniw, 368 AR_ **

I 'bumped' into Lady Amelia in the hall yesterday, and have discovered that she has matured during her time away. As well as coming into her inheritance as Countess of Sviniya, she has gained a regal, almost royal air that suits her quite well.

She is quite sly, the Countess Amelia. Perhaps it was the dosed wine, but I found myself spending the night at her suite.

**_Day 67 of Retniw, 368 AR_ **

Gregor has returned, strutting the halls like an overdecorated peacock. He seems to think I have forgotten his insult against me last season.

Surprise—I haven't. While Galbatorix forbids me to duel and kill another of the Servants, I can certainly do a lot short of that.

No matter what, I am the strongest of the Thirteen.

**_Day 73 of Retniw, 368 AR_ **

Gregor won't be bothering me anymore. In fact, he won't be bothering anybody for a very long time.

Now that I think about it, he won't be seen around court, either. It's hard to do that with his face bashed in and magic laid over it to seal his lying lips shut.

**_Day 9 of Ginrps, 369 AR_ **

We had a blizzard today, a wonderful surprise. It caused quite the commotion at court to see those pearly white flakes streaking out of the sky, whipping around on a fierce, frigid gale. This is nature's magic, bliss untouched by human hands.

Countess Amelia and I were in my rooms when we first noticed it. I think I acted quite the fool by lunging out of bed and nearly breaking the window, but it's been so long since I've seen something so beautiful and pure.

It's a new year. A new start, in short. A new beginning.

**_Day 42 of Ginrps, 369 AR_ **

I saw Selena today.

It waas during a banquet, and I was seated with Countess Amelia as per usual when several maids came in to take the plates away. And then when I turned to respond to Countess Amelia's comment about orchids, I saw Selena—not as a guest, but as a maid.

I don't understand. From what I could gather, Selena's family, while not being noble, was fairly high in the social hierarchy. What could happen in the span of time between two seasons ago and today, that she could become a simple maid?

There's another reason, of course. Isenstar was a dream. A beautiful, luxurious dream of which nothing could truly exist. Selena was part of that—a companion that didn't try to double-talk or best me, one that I could faithfully perceive as nothing but truth.

Dreams should stay dreams. What is she doing here?

**_Day 45 of Ginrps, 369 AR_ **

Her voice sent a strange pang through me when I heard it again today. Selena fascinates me—afraid and courageous, weak and strong, tearful and stoic. Perhaps I am insecure and need reassurance, but I find comfort in the fact that she can take comfort from me.

She's young, naïve, as yet untrained in the ways of court. Eventually she will fade into the woodwork, too, learning to conform with the whispers of gossip and the mawkish flattery. It's always the way it is, isn't it? Perhaps the image I carry of my time in Isenstar is untrue now, destroyed.

I'm afraid to find out.

**_Day 48 of Ginrps, 369 AR_ **

I find myself wondering if Countess Amelia could have accomplished what Selena did, in her place. To remake a life as a humble maid, when you are used to the rich life of nobility? I can hardly imagine the countess on her hands and knees, scrubbing a floor.

I found time again today to visit Selena. Impatient to have her complete her work, I found myself actually joining in, fetching a cloth to wipe the windows while she swept the floor. It was less painful that was to be expected, especially since Selena was there.

We went walking afterwards. It was a beautiful night, with a full moon.

**_Day 55 of Ginrps, 369 AR_ **

I visited Selena late today, when her shift was over. I borrowed one of the palace horses for her, a gentle mare named Dunberry, and we went riding in the woods.

I planned to go hunting, actually, and I was about to shoot at a doe I saw when Selena stopped me with her hand on mine. She seemed to sense my intention and pleaded with her eyes, asking me to understand what I would destroy if I released my arrow.

Gracefully arched, illuminated by the sunset that filtered through the trees, the doe stood there, unmoving. Watching us. Maybe it didn't understand that with a flick of my fingers, I could kill it.

Or maybe it was Selena who compelled it to stay, a mutual understanding between two kindred spirits.

**_Day 63 of Ginrps, 369 AR_ **

She's the same as she ever was—grown, perhaps, but in no way that I can find fault with. I find myself comparing her incessantly to Countess Amelia, and I don't understand the conclusions I'm coming out with.

So different. In every measurable way, they are opposites. Where Countess Amelia is cunning, Selena is open and honest. Where Countess Amelia is cool, calm, and collected, she is passionate. Sensitive.

When that disgusting bastard touched her today, I—well, I don't think I entirely believe it myself. But I know what I intend to do to him, and I know this is something that I _will_ do. I just don't know why. Why I feel so strongly.

I could choose any of a dozen women. A hundred. A _thousand!_ From the poorest peasant to the richest duchess, any chit in Alagaesia I chose could be mine. Countess Amelia would surely delight to become my consort, if she isn't already. Much less my—

My wife?

I can't. I can't be thinking about that, can I? It's ridiculous. Taking a wife means responsibility. Whatever happened to Morzan the loner? The one who wants to be alone all the time, who can't stand living at court?

 _Selena_. Look at this. Look at what I'm writing, what I'm thinking. You've ruined my concentration, my focus, my—oh, I don't know what. Maybe it's guilt. Maybe since she and that woman from the village are so similar, I think I can atone for what I did. But that's ridiculous. Isn't it?

All I know is that I cannot stand to think of another man touching her. Groping her. _Wanting_ her the way I do.

**_Day 69 of Gnirps, 369 AR_ **

I finally went to see Galbatorix today, hoping that he could help me untangle this mess. He listened to my garbled explanation, at all the words gushing out of me, and finally he just said something along the lines of, "Do you love her?"

 _Love_? It's a four-letter word. Four letters that have potentially ripped my life apart. All these years, over a hundred of them now—nobody, _nobody_ has affected me the way Selena has. Not Countess Amelia, not any of the dozen women I've flirted with, kissed, and slept with.

Galbatorix then continued, ignoring the sight I must've made—disorderly, wide-eyed, frantic. "Why should you suddenly break away from Countess Amelia? Haven't she been your consort for this past year? I must admit, you two are so very alike. Wouldn't it be a much better match?"

Countess Amelia. Countess Amelia with her pale smooth skin and silky blond hair and cold, sharp eyes. Somehow, marrying her never crossed my thoughts, even in the moments of ecstacy or sharpest passion. She was exactly that—a consort. Not somebody I could imagine binding my life with.

But how can I want Selena? I've known her for a much shorter period of time. I've never slept with her, I've only kissed her once—aren't those acts by which love is judged?

I left then, more confused than before.

**_Day 71 of Gnirps, 369 AR_ **

Countess Amelia stopped me in the halls today. She has caught wind of the rumors and is demanding that I refute them. _Demanding._

I am still at a loss for words by her audacity. By demanding in such a regal, imperious way—what does she assume, then? As if she were queen and I was bound to her by an oath of loyalty? As if we were married, and I was having an affair?

I overreacted, I think. My feelings have been turbulent enough, and to hear such an arrogant order issue from her mouth was the breaking point. Either way, my relationship with Countess Amelia is well and truly gone.

**_Day 73 of Gnirps, 369 AR_ **

The marriage oath varies from city to city, and also depends on which priest of which faith you choose. They all have one thing in common, though—the last lines. 'I tie my life to yours, through pain and sorrow, through faith and love. So mote it be, till death do us part.'

Could I commit myself to that kind of finality? _Dreams can't last forever_. If there's one thing that I've learned in my life, it's that. What if I wake up ten years from now and discover that something's changed in her? That what I thought her to be was false, a silly façade?

As I watch her now through a scrying glass, I find myself believing so strongly that this picture I paint cannot come to pass. By a simple fact of who she is, who her character is—none of that could happen.

**_Day 77 of Gnirps, 369 AR_ **

Fragile, exquisite—if I don't capture it now, it will vanish like a snowflake, lost in the wind. I can't let that happen; I can't let what I've found disappear into smoke. I won't _let_ it.

I will ask Galbatorix for permission tomorrow. And then after that…for Selena's consent.

**_Day 78 of Gnirps, 369 AR_ **

He was perfectly ambiguous about it, perfectly diplomatic. I didn't get an answer either way, and his face is closed to me. _Why won't he let me?_

I told him. I told him that this was something I had debated for a very long time, thought through, and calculated every angle before I came to this decision. Yet through all of it, he said nothing even vaguely close to consent, his eyes hooded.

I sense he disapproves, but I cannot understand his motivations.

**_Day 2 of Remmus, 369 AR_ **

The answer is still no. To be accurate—it's nothing. Galbatorix watches me while I pace the throne room, trying to convince both him and myself. No reponse comes. It never does.

I thought I was so certain, but now I fumble like a helpless newborn. My arguments are almost gone.

**_Day 5 of Remmus, 369 AR_ **

He did, right? Or perhaps I was just imagining all of it…?

I never thought he'd change his mind. For so long he was as a block of marble, his eyes the only movement as they followed me around the room. But today, as I stood there before him—mute, out of words—he finally spoke.

He asked me the same question he'd asked the very first time I met him. Simple, but with an infinitely different meaning. _Who are you?_

I gaped at him then, as surprised as anything that something so non sequitur should suddenly come my way after days of silence. It took my some time to regain my bearings, and when I finally spoke, my voice was rougher than it should have been. "Morzan."

He smiled then, faintly. "Morzan Onirson. Son of a peasant, from humble origins. From dirt, to be blunt. Elevated to the status of nobility by the chance that one of the most graceful beings on Alagaesia should choose you. You think you know yourself, but only one who observes can see how much you've changed."

I didn't understand, not then. But Galbatorix continued, his eyes softening with an emotion I couldn't and still can't name. "Listen to yourself. You make no sense; I haven't been able to understand a single thing you've told me. But I do understand one thing. You would not have tried for so long, and so hard, for somebody you did not truly want."

He leaned forward then, taking my hand in his. "I don't know if you'll come to regret this in years following, Morzan. Love and desire are different things. But for now...go. If this is what you truly believe, then go."

I could only stare at him, stunned. I think I'm still in shock, for everything seems rather numb.

**_Day 6 of Remmus, 369 AR_ **

I asked her today. Finally, after so many weeks—I was able to ask her, to listen for her answer…

She said yes.

Beautiful, strong, warm Selena. A wild doe, held still before the bowsight, the moon brushing her with silvery fingers. Now and forever, till death do us part.

She's **_mine_**.


	2. Splintered Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Counterpart to Silver Pup's Silver Roses.

_**Day 20 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

Well, I have officially done it. As of today, I am a married man.

I'm still rather stunned, I think. A century or more of bacherlordom tend to set you into a certain mindframe. But, stunned or not, I am married to Selena. The wedding was today, in the temple of the Goddess Shai.

Surprisingly enough, it was Aderes who suggested Shai's temple as opposed to any of the dozen gods out there. He reminded me of the marriage customs of which I was raised with, as well as doing honor to the goddess to which Mother dedicated her life. He said it would be better than a royal wedding with Galbatorix presiding, seeing as Selena and I both come from dirt and might as well live up to it. That's typical Aderes for you—says something soft and sentimental, and then just has to bash your dreams apart with some scathing comment.

The statue of Shai in the palace temple is worn away now, the finely carved features eroded by time. The emeralds that are her eyes, though, still shine with their original glory. While the old priest kept droning on about love and fidelity and faithfulness and whatnot, I found myself staring again and again at them. It was almost as if Shai herself was in the statue, reborn into this world. Or Mother, perhaps.

Later, I took out Mother's bracelet from the box where I have kept it all these years. It was the only thing she had of value, the only thing that my bastard of a father didn't drink away. It was the only thing she could give to me when she died, as my inheritance.

I gave it to Selena. I made up some tradition about my religion giving a marriage gift or something like that, but the truth is that I think Selena can take better care of it than I ever could.

It's an oath for myself, too. Father was a worthless bum whose only gift to Mother was the slap of his belt. He gave us children the same, worse to some than others.

I won't be like him. Not to Selena.

_**Day 22 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

I received a letter from Triannon today, informing me about the state of my holdings. It still is in somewhat a state of disrepair from the time of my little fight with Gregor, and will require a few more weeks to brush up. She also informs me tartly that the place needs a great deal of redecoration, as too many men have set their grubby paws on the décor and not nearly enough women.

I suppose Triannon will have a nice surprise, then, when I bring Selena back to Norwood Manor. Together, they can completely overturn my 'overly masculine' holdings and turn the interior colors from blue-green to pink. Rip up my artistically weedy gardens and replace them with rosebushes.

If they do, at least I'll have a point of conversation over court dinners.

_**Day 23 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

I have no chance of getting lost in dreams anymore. Aderes keeps my feet firmly on the ground with his sulky sarcasm, and today Galbatorix oh-so-accidentally walked into me in the halls and asked me with an evil smile to help him do an overview of the palace accounts.

Ah, the palace accounts. Apparently, all the secretaries and accountants have crawled into holes and died because Galbatorix is going to do a complete overhaul of the past nine years, organize them, and see what policies he needs to change. With me included in the fun, of course.

Looks like a dull season ahead. I hope Selena will be all right, staying here until this wieldy job is done.

_**Day 29 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

Selena asked me today to bring her back to her grandmother's estate, as well as send a letter to her family. There's no reason not to, but I want to go after the accounts are completed.

She seems rather restless in her rooms, but it's too dangerous to let her out onto the grounds. With her marriage to me, she has been catapulted into the sunlight, making her easy prey for the gossipers, snide courtiers, and the rest of the Thirteen. Not to mention the Countess Amelia von Sviniya.

Still, I'll try to take her out sometime.

_**Day 35 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

I should have known it would happen, sooner if not later. Today, as Selena and I were walking in the gardens, we ran into Countess Amelia.

She is a nosy, vindicative bitch who would make it her business to find me out despite the circumstances of our last meeting. The way she treated Selena—like dirt, like something inferior—if Selena had not stopped me by leaving the scene, I honestly don't know what would've happened.

Later, in our rooms, Selena asked me about the countess. I was still seething, but the tone of Selena's voice made me look up. It almost sounded like she—well, like she pitied her.

I didn't ask, and she didn't explain. I have a feeling, though, that this is not over.

_**Day 39 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

The impossible has happened. The Grey Folk have come again, pigs have flown, and the world has exploded into ash and flame.

Aderes took Selena  _flying_.

Can you believe that? I certainly can't. Aderes is a grump. He is sarcastic, vain, and bad-tempered. I'd never thought he'd like anybody well enough to let them sit on his back! Not in this life, not the next, not for all eternity. But once again, he has surprised me. Enormously, may I add.

Selena came back with her cheeks flushed and her hair wild, laughing from pure exhiliaration. I know how she feels—the first time I rode Aderes, I came down in fairly much the same state. It's wonderful that she got this experience. Perhaps Aderes will surprise me once more and let her ride again.

I caught a glimpse of her. She looked so wonderfully free, as if some weight that burdened her on earth had fallen away in the sky. A nymph, a spirit floating on the ether. A star that should never fall.

_**Day 42 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

I'm afraid the tapestry of the dining hall will never quite be the same. Neither will be that godsdamned Countess Amelia von Sviniya

She stopped me today, almost hysterical. It was extremely embarrassing—she cornered me in the dining hall and was screaming insults at me, her hair wild and disheveled. When I grabbed her wrists to stop her, she spat in my face and hissed, "Let's see how your little  _bitch_  will feel when you leave her as you left  _me_."

I lost control, and to hell with propriety.  _How dare she?_  Who the hell does she think she is, to say such things to me, to say such things of Selena?

What followed next is a series of nasty magical accidents that I don't care to describe. All I can say is, the countess had better watch her mouth. I didn't maim her, for consideration of our past relationship, but I never want to see her face again.

Selena will not hear about this. I will make sure of it—if anybody tells her, I will rip out their tongues. See how well they can gossip then.

_**Day 43 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

The palace is a cage, and every person yet another bar in the frame. The air is stifling, and all these idiots can do apparently is hide around corners when they see me and resume whispering when they think I've gone. If I must stay here another moment, I will honestly go insane.

I asked Galbatorix for leave from the palace earlier today. He raised an eyebrow and told me rather pointedly that the dining hall tapestry was irreparable and cost around a thousand gold crowns.

In the end, though, he has allowed me to leave. I think I'll take Selena back to her grandmother's estates. That should take up enough time for this incident to fade from public gossip.

_**Day 45 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

I can't sleep, so I might as well write. We arrived at the grandmother's estates only to find a certain Garrow there. For a moment I feared it was an old lover of hers, some competitor to take my Selena away from me. But no, it's her brother.

He's protective of her. I think I am still a bit edgy from my encounter with the Countess Amelia, but I overreacted a bit when he started snapping at me, poking holes into my oh-so-fragile ego (thank you, Aderes, for that lovely comment). Still, he seems like a good brother to Selena. He has protected her well.

But in my marriage to her, the task has now fallen to me. Garrow will understand that by the time this visit is out.

_**Day 47 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

I woke up feeling unsettled today, but I can't quite remember what the dream was about. I do remember that I couldn't go back to sleep, though, and so stepped out of the house for some fresh air.

The sun was rising, and I found Garrow outside. He looked up at me when I exited the house, gave a small annoyed grunt, and went back to feeding the (many) dogs. It took longer than to be expected, as they were all distracted by my entrance and all had to sniff me suspiciously before settling down.

When he finally spoke, it was something in a low, gruff tone of voice. I listened, mostly—Garrow seemed to expect no answer, and I gave none.

Garrow is my brother-in-law. Despite the title, though, we differ so greatly in age it seems ludicrous that I should find him somebody worthy of respect.

I won't say he dazzled me with his sparkling wit, because the man has all the wit of a dirt wall. But that's what he has—good, solid common sense and finely honed instincts. He cares for Selena, and will trust me with the task he began simply because Selena chose me.

At the end of the (mostly) one-sided conversation, he turned away without a word and gathered the dogs' leashes. Over breakfast, it was as if the conversation had never happened. He did not mention it, and neither did I.

I think, though, that neither of us will forget it. It will come back, one day.

_**Day 49 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

Garrow and Marian left today. It has begun to rain.

I detest rain. It bogs everything down, and everything acquires a peculiarly unpleasant odor after a while. As Aderes hates to fly in rain, we will be stuck here until this foul weather stops.

_**Day 53 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

More rain. It seems as if the skies are determined to make everything as foul as possible.

How thoroughly unpleasant.

_**Day 55 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

We broke several barriers today, Selena and I. It's surprising, but also wonderfully pleasant in a way I can't identify. A way that no other woman ever was.

It started off with a fight. Selena evidently was rather bored with my general disgust with the world, and so this morning she shouted at me to grow up and stop acting like a spoiled brat. One thing led to another, and eventually I said something about choosing the Countess Sviniya over her.

It hurt, I could see that. Mostly because almost immediately after the words left my mouth, Selena was on me, trying to bash my face in. It didn't work very well; I got her wrists pinned above her head and her body under me. She was still angry at that point.

Passion. It can be aroused by the strangest of things. Is anger passion of some sort, then? Is it a forewarning of lust?

No. I wouldn't call it lust—not completely, anyhow. I'm not a virgin, by any means—heavens know just how many women I've tumbled over the years. But with Selena—well, somehow it was different. As if it were the first time, something completely new and very powerful.

When we finally stopped, Selena asked me about the word  _aiedail_. I don't remember saying it, but evidently I must have sometime during the heat of passion.

I do remember very clearly, though, the shape of her body as she lay in the blankets. Even in the darkness, her hair shone; her eyes even brighter. Graceful, ethereal—if a star were to be reborn as human, it would be Selena.

My morning star, eternally bright.

_**Day 57 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

Oh, I feel like a right fool. But to hell with dignity; I'll be wet enough as it is. Today I got sick enough of staying in the house—rain or no rain, we would return to Uru'baen tomorrow.

But then Selena (somehow) convinced me to dance in the rain. Ah, I don't know what made me finally agree—the lilt in her voice, the light in her eyes? In any case, Selena pulled me outside and started to sing a silly little lullaby as she nudged me through the patterns of the dance. It was simple—two steps right, left, take a twirl, and do it all over again.

I do feel a little ridiculous saying it even now, but it was wonderful. After we ran out of lyrics for the child's lullaby, Selena led me through a slow waltz before trying a much trickier one with plenty of spins and dips. We fell a few times, and now I have mud stains all over my favorite pair of green breeches.

Still, it was worth it. Selena was so beautiful in the rain, with her inhibitations and decorum forgotten.

_**Day 61 of Remmus, 369 AR** _

We have arrived back at Uru'baen. Selena is sick with a cold. And I have the palace accounts to haul through again—Galbatorix evidently has not completed them in my absence.

I shouldn't complain—it's useful work, I'll admit, and necessary. Without it, we would continue losing policies and the drain on the treasury would grow year by year. All things must change, after all. And it's best that Galbatorix and I should do it together, instead of one of the other idiots who don't deserve to call themselves Riders.

If only it weren't so mind-numbingly  _dull_.

_**Day 3 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

Oh, no.

The social season has started.

All today and yesterday, ladies, gentlemen, counts, dukes, earls, barons were all flocking in like overdressed peacocks, using the most delicate language to pick each other apart like vultures. It's enough to drive me mad. All day long, pompous bundles of lard have been stopping me in the halls to offer obsequious congratulations on my marriage while begging for an extension on their taxes in the most disgusting, honeyed language.

Galbatorix has noticed. I shouldn't be surprised, really, considering how observant he can be. But today, as we wrapped up land and shipping taxes, he told me that I should take Selena back to my estates.

He waved away my concerns about the accounts, telling me that they were nearly done. "Besides," he said in that patiently maddening way of his, "I expect you could do with a trip to your estates. Selena must be  _so_  bored in this drafty palace, and Norwood will need a touch of its master's hand, I think."

When I protested, he gave me the  _look_ , telling me not to be stupid. Now that I think about it, Norwood  _is_  close enough to Uru'baen that a messenger on horseback can contact me within a day.

That's an idea. In fact, it's a wonderful idea. I'll go tell Selena.

_**Day 4 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

Triannon and Selena seem to be getting along wonderfully. I was worried for a moment about questions of authority, but the roles seem to have smoothed out quite well.

I did a full circuit of my estates, greater and lesser, looking for any problems. There are none, at least none that I can tell. Triannon has done a wonderful job, perhaps even better than Argelin—the crops are flourishing, and everything runs as well as I could have hoped.

Aderes and I bumped into Taron and Rispah a few miles away from Norwood. Rispah and Aderes went off into their own little world while Taron and I exchanged pleasantries about the state of affairs in the world. He passed on news about bad feelings brooding near the Surdan-Empire border again, which means that the Varden is kicking up its heels once more.

Sometimes I think Taron is the only other Rider of the Thirteen who has any mind at all.

It was sunset when Aderes and Rispah finally returned. He seemed rather sorry to see her go, might I add. He left me at Norwood's gates, looking distinctly foul-tempered.

Despite Aderes's continued bad temper, my own spirits have been lifted. I found Selena in the library, her face lighting up with that joyously carefree smile when she saw me.

_**Day 9 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

Selena has claimed a little patch of (once but no longer) flower garden that lies unnoticed by the vegetable gardens. Once the home of weeds, thistles, and burrs, Selena is transforming it into a canopy of life and color.

I watched her today, and she didn't notice me as she worked. She looked—well, happy among the green life, with her dress dragging in the dirt and mud stains over her hands. The flowers that have been newly planted there seem to respond to her touch, turning up their faces to her as if she were the sun.

_**Day 11 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

Summons. Taron came back today, looking decidedly grim—we are to head south to the Jiet Training Camp in order to try to whip those laggards into shape. The Varden is rearing up again, and we need men.

Karma always comes around, doesn't it? Aderes is in seventh heaven and decidedly smug—Taron and Rispah will accompany us on this particular mission. It will take curst  _months_ , though. Maybe even the whole season, and Selena will not be there.

I don't want to leave her, but duty is duty. I may have a few days to prepare before I leave, though. I will use that respite, best as I can.

_**Day 14 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

We left today. We are in a temporary camp by Leona Lake, will reach Jiet Training camp tomorrow. Aderes and Rispah are busy making puppy eyes at each other.

It's quiet out here, but the silence seems oppressive. Going to sleep.

_**Day 15 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

The training camp is filled with from a range of men from young men barely into sixteen years, to grizzled veterans who have seen twenty years or more of service. One such veteran, Commander Aaron Hull, runs the camp. He seems to be a sensible man.

The would-be soldiers have been here anywhere from two weeks to three days, and their training has been irregular. To tell the truth, they look rather pansy. I doubt that many of the green lads here can even hold their swords without hurting themselves.

Taron and I have a job ahead of us. These men sorely need some discipline.

_**Day 32 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

I thought I had put Selena out of my thoughts. In a training camp full of males and testosterone, female influences tend to vanish as if they never were. I keep myself busy during the day, so as not to remember.

Today, though, it all came flooding to me with clarity so sharp as to be almost uncomfortable.

Taron and I had a heated argument over assigning captaincy, and I left the camp on Aderes before anything particularly violent happened. He settled on a low hill a few miles away from Jiet. The sun was setting, painting the sky with vibrant oranges and reds.

I want her to be here. It sounds childish and petulant to say so, but I want her to be by my side. To hold her, to touch her hair, to feel the soft curves of her body, to see her smile. To know that she is still mine, and will always be.

It's only nostalgia.

_**Day 35 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

Taron and I have reached an uneasy truce. We must if we are to work together for the remainder of this season. The recruits are looking less like wobbly sticks and more like soldiers, but there is still much work to be done.

_**Day 39 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

Strange.

Taron beckoned for me to follow him today after the day's work was done. He headed into a copse, lighting weirlights to lessen the shadows.

He asked me what was wrong, noting that I seemed pensive and sullen. More than usual. He'd heard rumors about marriage, after all.

I wondered—and still do—of what his motives were. As innocent as Taron's face might seem, he  _is_  one of the Thirteen. He may be the one I respect most, but that tells me nothing about how far he will go for power.

_**Day 40 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

I discussed this incident with Aderes early this morning, and he told me something he has gleaned from his conversations with Rispah.

Taron's estates are suffering. He has some bumbling ninny for his chief steward, and a blight has hit the crops he has managed to plant. Rispah was very discreet about it, giving only vague hints, but apparently he has taken heavy loans and may not be able to repay them without a rich acquaintance of some sort.

The merchants who lent him the money would never confront him directly, of course. They would go to Galbatorix, who would deal with Taron in the matter of these debts. He would fall from favor—a debtor is embarrassing, somebody whose reputation cannot be trusted.

Interesting. Sadistically so, of course. At least now I know the reason for his apparent concern yesterday.

_**Day 49 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

It's late-midseason already. My, how time flies when you're having fun.

Commander Hull, Taron, and I convened yesterday. He says, and I agree, that the men will soon be ready to be assigned to their war barracks. There are a few more problems to be worked out, and there are still those captaincies to assign, but the companies can be dispatched within two or three weeks.

Taron was distracted, almost agitated throughout the length of the meeting. Perhaps it had something to do with the messenger that arrived yesterday from Derkholm, his main estates.

_**Day 54 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

Taron left camp today. His excuses were rather pathetic.

_**Day 60 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

The soldiers have been filtering out as orders come down the line. About a quarter of the men are gone, and more will leave through the course of the week.

Commander Hull asked me (politely, of course) to stay on to train the next batch of men through retniw. He seemed rather disappointed when I declined. As such, I will return home by the end of this week.

I wonder how Selena is.

_**Day 66 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

Leaving today. Will arrive in Norwood late tomorrow.

_**Day 67 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

My Selena has become quite the scholar in my absence! I found her curled up in a chair next to the fireplace, and for a moment I could only stare at her pensive expression as I stood in the doorway. The firelight gave her hair a deep auburn glow, and her cheeks had a healthy fair blush.

She seems to have grown. Not taller or ganglier, but as a woman. She still has the same smile, though, and that laugh that rings out bright and carefree. She flung herself into my arms, and for a moment I could only stand there, inhaling the soft scent of her hair.

I talked with Triannon later, and she seems to be fond of Selena. They've done quite a lot of remodeling in my absence, I can tell. The flower garden has expanded dramatically, and the whole manor has a gentle, feminine taste to it. It's not as unpleasant to be expected.

All things considered, it's good to be back.

_**Day 69 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

I have been catching up on what happened while I was gone. Quite a lot, actually. The servants regard her with a mixture of affection and respect, and Selena herself seems quite at home here. I'm glad to know they accept her so well.

On other matters, I also prepared my preliminary report for Galbatorix. Should I tell him about Taron's troubles, though? I bear him no particular ill will; it seems rather low to take down a desperate man.

In any case, I will report back to Galbatorix tomorrow.

_**Day 70 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

I left early this morning for Uru'baen. Galbatorix was in his chambers, and he seemed surprised to see me. With a small smile, he told me that I was back unusually early.

I gave him my report. He leafed through it, but didn't seem to be particularly interested. Even the attached report I added concerning Taron didn't hold his attention—he glanced at it, frowned, and set it aside. And then he turned to look at me, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Very carefully, his eyes never leaving my face, he told me that he had seen Selena in my absence. They had talked about certain things, and certain doubts that he had harbored had vanished.

His voice was neutrally flat, and all the time he was watching me for my reaction. I think I did a passably good job of keeping my own voice calm, but I don't think I fooled him. Anyone else, yes, but not him.

I can only imagine what those 'certain things' are. How could their conversation possibly have gone? What could she have said, to dissipate any doubts Galbatorix had? It's strange, but for the first time I understand how a quill can be mightier than a sword. Or words, in any case.

If Selena said the wrong words…well, how do I judge right and wrong? I have no right to dictate her thoughts, after all. But what if—

My hand is  _shaking_  as I write this. I've only just noticed. This display of weakness is—it's ridiculous.

Enough of this. I won't know if I don't ask.

_**Day 71 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

She told me. She told me everything. Everything Galbatorix said, everything she said. And at the end, when I could bear it no longer and left, I could hear her crying through the wooden door.

Selena has nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to cry for, yet she takes on the burdens of the world and hopes to shoulder them for those who cannot. For those who don't deserve it—those, she struggles for hardest.

She doesn't understand, but yet she tries. How can I look her in the eye? How can I—how can I hope to understand that kind of innocence?

_**Day 75 of Nmatua, 369 AR** _

Within the bounds of society, I am seen as superior to Selena—as a male, as a Rider, as the king's right hand. But no. Those who say so don't understand. They don't know.

The woods offer no peace from emotion.

_**Day 1 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

The snow has come, but it is sick and wan. Nothing but a pathetic covering of frost.

Saw wolves today.

_**Day 2 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Today Aderes got fed up, picked me up by the ankle, and dumped me into the largest pile of snow he could find. Told me I should be ashamed of myself for kicking up such a phenomenol fuss, and to think of Selena.

He ranted along the lines for a good while, and I must admit his words had enough truth in it that they stung. In my aversion of innocence, I have unknowingly been destroying it as surely as if I killed her myself.

In the end, though, his action surprises me. I have never known Aderes to become so passionate. It makes me wonder as to the depth of his feelings for her.

He's right, though.

_**Day 3 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Finally tonight, I went into Selena's rooms once more. Her worry, her touch. Some see it as weakness, but such purity cannot be weak.

I love her.

Startling, how three words can change so much. How shocking they can be, as if warmth finally struck the ice, splintering the flawless pane. What was frozen can now touch the sunlight, brought forth into flower.

In her arms, somehow the weight melts away.

_**Day 5 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

_Snow!_

Real snow, not that pansy stuff that covered the ground. Beautiful, knee-high drifts, blanketing everything in pure white.

I dragged Selena out of bed into the woods, into a valley that can only be seen easily from dragonback. I have to remember to bring Selena back during remmus, where the valley is covered with wildflowers.

I brought two longbows, and I showed Selena how to use them. She has a good eye that will get even better with practice; the only problem is that she needs to build her arm muscles in order to pull back the string easily. After some discussion about weaponry, I think the staff would also be a good weapon to teach her. It fits her small frame, and can be wielded with grace.

We also had a snowball fight, and that still makes me laugh even now. Selena attacked first, and by the end of it we had given up with snowballs and were shoveling the snow onto each other.

It didn't melt until we went back inside Norwood's gates, when we were able to change into warm clothes. The snow powdered us like frosting, making us quite a spectacle. Thank goodness nobody saw us (or at least the fighting bit of it), for any dignity that I have left is certainly gone.

_**Day 9 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

My report on Taron has not been as disregarded as I thought, for I have received orders from Galbatorix today to serve upon Taron a letter of confiscation. In order to pay his debts, his estates will be sold.

He won't be entirely homeless, as he does have rooms at the palace. Still, this is humiliating. I regret having inflicted such a fate upon him.

_**Day 11 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Taron's face went bloodless and he seemed almost about to faint. He took the loss as well as to be expected, though, accepting this as another card dealt as life of the Thirteen.

Aderes was silent all the way back. He seems to be distressed over Rispah—as far as I can tell, she wouldn't speak to him.

_**Day 12 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Back at Norwood again, with Selena. We spent the whole day in bed.

After she fell asleep, though, I found myself tracing the lines of her face again and again. My Selena looked so delicate, lying there asleep. So…fragile.

She's mine to shelter and to hold. I won't let anything hurt her. Ever.

_**Day 14 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Aderes has been in a bad mood lately, and it's because of Rispah. As I suspected, he did like her very much. Maybe even love her enough to mate with her, but that's only idle speculation.

We went flying. He was in slightly better spirits at the end of it—I think. At least he wasn't sulking with his tail down anymore, which is a good sign.

Still. It's worrying.

_**Day 16 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

The snow thickened overnight, transforming into a blizzard that has completely wrapped Norwood. We visited poor Aderes, griping in his sheltered roost, and toasted marshmallows over the fire that he graciously provided us with. The three of us spent the day exchanging riddles and pelting each other with marshmallows. Aderes was in a better mood today.

Selena seems to glow with the reflected firelight. Does she know just how beautiful I find her?

_**Day 19 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Oh, gods.

I slapped her. We were fighting, I lost control, my anger took over, and  _I slapped her_. And when she looked at me, her skin showing the red marks of my palm—

I remember Mother's bracelet glinting on her wrist, and how it was the only thing she had that Father didn't take. I cursed him when he hit Mother, when he took out his drunken rages on her. I hated him for what he did to my sisters and Murtagh.

How am I different from him? How can I stand here now and curse his name, while I've become him?

I can't meet her eyes. Can't stand in a room, pretending to be her equal. To have done such a deed to her.

What have I done?

_**Day 23 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

I still can't get it out of my mind. Selena's eyes—when she realized what I did, what did she think? I can't recall her expression clearly enough—was it shock? Pain? And then, later, a growing hate?

Aderes has been quiet these days, and his emotions are hidden from me. Not for the first time, I don't understand what he's thinking.

I don't understand myself. How could I have lost control like that? To  _Selena_? I promised to keep her safe, and now I've violated the trust she placed in me.

I write this from Norwood's surrounding forests, but the woods no longer offer shelter. Every snap, every flicker of movement—they are accusations, sharp and deserved.

_**Day 29 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

I saw a herd of deer today, their graceful white coats almost invisible in the snow. They sensed my presence, though, and looked up sharply as I approached.

The king stag watched me aggressively, and behind him stood the lesser bucks and does. They watched the stag for guidance, and he was there for them, guiding them to safety.

As I was not, for Selena.

_**Day 31 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Aderes. Grumpy, bad-tempered, vain Aderes. We have fought, thrown rocks at each other, and given each other the silent treatment, but it is always him that pulls me out of my self-pity.

He threatened to dump me into another snowdrift, pointing out that they were much bigger now. I cursed him. He glared at me with one beady eye and said that if he were my mother, he'd wash out my mouth with soap.

He told me that I was acting like an idiot,  _again_. In a very scathing tone of voice, he told me that I tended to think the worst of people. That I would judge them according to their faults, and that I was a pessimist by heart.

I don't think I said more than ten words during all this. Including the curse. When Aderes finally stopped to glare at me, I still could find no words to say.

He's right, of course. He's—well, he's not always right. That would make him too unbearably smug. Still, I find it so difficult to believe.

Could Selena forgive me, then? Forgive me for what I did? Or have I pushed the boundaries too far?

But I can't—I can't hurt her any longer. By ignorance, neglect, or loss of control. To do so would be sacrilege.

Once is enough.

_**Day 32 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

She forgave me. Without harshness or resentment—she forgave me.

It is far more than I deserve.

_**Day 36 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

I saw wolves again today, which surprised me. I'd forgotten about them, since Norwood Forest usually doesn't hold a wolf pack. The deer's only predators around here are hunters like I.

They seem to be faring rather badly, though. There were only three, and their ribs were showing through thick matted fur.

_**Day 39 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

We practiced longbows again today. She did better than before, and her aim is improving steadily.

_**Day 44 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Aderes and I were out in the woods today when he mentioned, in a very offhand matter, that I missed Selena's birthday.

I have been calling myself ten kinds of a fool since then. Selena seemed surprised when I asked her, and she said it wasn't important.

Wasn't important? Maybe it's not important to men like me, since I've seen more than eighty of them already. But for Selena, who's only seen seventeen years? A birthday is something to celebrate, not to throw into a corner and hope your husband doesn't notice!

I should get her something. A present, daresay. But what can I get her that she doesn't have already? Jewelry, clothes? She has enough that she won't ever be able to wear them all.

Flowers, perhaps? But there are none to be found in winter. Besides, flowers are impermanent. Removed from the root, they die quickly. Their lives cannot last.

Wait.

New life. Nature. Those are the things Selena loves. Perhaps I can find her a pet of some sort to raise, so that she won't be alone when I am gone.

A bird? A dog? A cat?

I think I may have an idea.

_**Day 45 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

I got Selena a wolf pup in the end. I was looking for a doe, actually, but I found the wolves instead. Tracking back to their lair, I found pups.

Yes, pups. In retniw. It was surprising to me, too, for usually pups are born in ginrps. But there it was, plain as day—two wolf pups, staring at me with bright crystal eyes.

They looked thin, but lively enough. I chose the one with green-amber eyes in the end, and he seemed to take to Selena wonderfully. When I left, he was already settling down in her arms. She smiled at me in gratitude, her eyes shining and bright.

Aderes laughed so hard when Selena named the pup Sereda, after his name backwards. He says smugly that that's a token of Selena's vast appreciation for his mighty existence, which makes me want to punch him.

_**Day 53 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Not that I'm jealous, but it's a little annoying how closely Selena clings to Sereda. Yes, I will admit he's only a wolf (albeit an adorable one), but still.

It's irritating.

_**Day 57 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

I received a messenger from Uru'baen today. He had a map, containing a plotgraph of the latest strikes against the Varden.

They all seem to be converging around the Jiet River, blocking off trade with Surda. Galbatorix wrote that for the time being, (the now) General Hull is holding a capable defense.

It won't be long before something more happens, though.

_**Day 59 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

A major battle was fought yesterday at Belatona. General Hull was killed in action, and a replacement has yet to be found.

The battle is at a stalemate, with both sides struggling to gain any advantage. Belatona still stands for the time being, though Galbatorix writes that it is sorely in need of aid. Supplies are scarce and the destruction large.

He also told me to ready myself for departure, should a replacement be necessary. The man he has in mind to take Hull's place and push back the Varden offense may not be up the task, and a loss cannot be afforded.

Besides, he wants a Rider to lead the battle.

_**Day 63 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

_What?_  He chose Glael. He chose  _Glael!_  The stupidity, it—of all people,  _Glael_? Why not I? Why not Taron, if nobody else?

I thought I had to misreading the letter. But no. He chose Glael to lead the battle. The letter went on to say that I should spend some more time at Norwood, working out any 'mental problems' I had.

Mental problems!  _Mental problems!_  The only mental problems I have is that Galbatorix chose some bumbling ninny like  _Glael_ to lead this battle. Doesn't he understand how important it is? If we lose this one, then the quickest and cheapest trade route to Surda is  _gone_. Whoever controls Belatona controls the Jiet.

If we can't halt their advance at Belatona, then Dras-Leona will suffer at the loss of its main trading partner besides Uru'baen. The intertrade on Leona Lake will fall, and gods only know how the economic losses will ripple across the Empire.

Yet he chose Glael. What did that son of a bitch  _do_ , in order to get this assignment? Unless he's suddenly gotten far more brilliant than  _I_  last saw him, I fear for the stability of the economy.

I can see no way out of it. Galbatorix, once his mind is made, doesn't change it easily. But how he could choose Glael in the first place is a mystery to me. Have I displeased him somehow, then?

_**Day 64 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Galbatorix won't change his mind. A siege has begun at Belatona.

Selena asked me what was wrong today. I told her, and she seemed rather pensive when she left.

_**Day 69 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Siege still holds. The Varden attempted to send reinforcements but were cut off by secondary troops from Feinster. Not enough to repel the bulk of the offense.

_**Day 72 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

Dras-Leona tried to send forces to aid Belatona. Half the fleet destroyed by Varden.

_**Day 75 of Retniw, 369 AR** _

That ninny Glael managed to push back the Varden offense. They are retreating, and Glael is coming back to Uru'baen for a victory feast.

Knowing him, though, he'll have left something undone. Looking at the charts, I don't think everything is entirely right.

_**Day 1 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

I was right. The Varden had retreated into the base of the Coastal Mountains. They've seized control of Feinster—not as bad as Belatona, but Feinster is the key to the Aroughs Plateau. Surda might decide to stir up and seize more land if Feinster is taken.

I had hoped this would change Galbatorix's mind about having that idiot in charge, but he still seems convinced by Glael's (temporary) victory at Belatona. Glael has command of the Feinster troops.

What really irritates me is that the man is still busy picking his teeth here at Uru'baen. If he loses the battle for Feinster, I will dismember him myself and consequences be damned.

_**Day 5 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

Selena has been in the woods a lot these past few days. I feel a bit guilty about neglecting her, but this is far more important than a lone man's love.

Glael is  _still_  at Uru'baen.

_**Day 8 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

She put herself in danger, the chit! If Glael had—if he had gone too far—if he had  _touched her_ more than he had, I will kill him. This is not an idle boast—Galbatorix may be pissed at me, but I will _kill him_.

Selena has been tracking Glael these past few days during the time that she was supposedly in the woods with Sereda. I suspect, but have no proof, that Triannon was in on it as you can hardly have a wolf pup with you in the palace.

She surprised me, but I can't stop thinking about what might have happened. The thought of losing her to some conniving bastard—she put herself in  _danger_. Yes, what she gave me was useful, but at what cost?

She's  _mine_. Not Glael's. Not ever.

_**Day 10 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

I went to Galbatorix today and told him the news that Selena had given me: about Eridor, Glael's dragon, being sick. He raised an eyebrow and reflected that Glael had hidden this news quite well.

It surprises me at how much he knows—with a small smile, he told me that Selena was quite a conniving lass, much more canny than he'd expected. How startling. When I asked what he meant, he would say nothing more on the subject, a sly smile in his eyes.

Then he went on to say with a little sigh, that since Glael would be 'inconvenienced' for a little while, that command of the Feinster troops would be mine. I leave tomorrow

I can't help but wonder what he meant by that remark about Selena, though.

_**Day 11 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

Left today. Selena was worried, I can see that—if there is fighting, many men will be killed. If everything works out, I hope to be back at the end of this week. I don't want to leave her for too long—she looks different, somehow.

If we can come from behind the Varden and trap them in the open plateau beyond Feinster, then they will be easy to rout as long as they don't reach Surda.

_**Day 12 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

I have arrived at the main bulk of the Empire defense. This is not good. The majority of troops are pushed against the Aroughs Plateau; the Varden have the shelter of the Coastal Mountains, with only secondary troops defending against a second attack of Belatona.

The general in charge of the troops, General Enil, seemed less than pleased to see me. Evidently he thought himself to be the longtime veteran and I the glorified poser who knew nothing but mincing about in court. He'll learn his mistake soon enough.

I have sent messages to Belatona asking them for more troops to box the Varden in. I doubt for any real response, though, as Belatona is in war-torn condition.

_**Day 16 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

They responded with four more companies, just barely enough to pepper the borders of Leona Lake. It will have to do.

We attack tomorrow.

_**Day 20 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

Feinster retaken. Barely. Varden fled into mountains.

Crossbow bolts got Aderes in wing. Healed him. Muscles still tender.

More later.

_**Day 29 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

The past few days have been hectic, and I don't think I've had more than five hours of sleep each night. I am surviving on copious amounts of a bitter drink that the soldiers call 'coffee'. It seems to work. Keeps me awake, in any case.

The forces sent into the Coastal Mountains were decoys. We spent the better part of the past few days trying hunt them down before Aderes and I took a scout flight and saw that they were fleeing instead toward Aroughs.

We stopped them just in time and have herded them into the inner parts of the Aroughs Plateau, where the terrain is woodier than the maps lead you to believe. The result is somewhat of a guerilla battle as we try to hunt them down.

It's easier said than done. They keep on trying for Surda, but I think there's something near the coast. Ships, perhaps.

I'll fly ahead and see.

_**Day 30 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

Ships. A fleet of them.

Aderes had fun burning them down.

_**Day 36 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

They've gone into Surda. We've had envoys banging down our door since then, demanding in very flowered language to know why imperial forces are in their territory.

The Varden will not escape. Diplomacies or not, I will throw that Surdan king over the balcony if he continues to get in my way.

_**Day 44 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

After heated negotiations and at least a hundred cups of coffee, we have managed to pin the Varden just outside Cithri.

Going to try to push them out of Surdan territories. At least then I won't have to play nice with that idiot King Orine or whatever his name is.

_**Day 48 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

We managed to do so, but at heavy losses. A bout of illness has run through the troops, and only hasty reinforcements from Melian have managed to tip the balance in our favor.

I myself have not been affected, but I suspect poison of some sort. New supplies arriving tomorrow. They will not be tainted.

I hope Selena's all right. Perhaps it's the illness throughout camp, but I fear that something is wrong at Norwood.

_**Day 54 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

Reached the coast of Tiidosten with the Varden fleeing just ahead. They are trying persistently to reach Surda again and again, which makes me suspicious as to the Surdan policy of neutrality.

I have sent word to Furnost. The governor will be ready with backup troops.

_**Day 58 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

They are pinned with Furnost's troops at their back and mine ahead. No escape for them this time.

This has been quite a chase, but it's almost over.

_**Day 63 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

Battle's over. We won. The few survivors have been captured and will be taken into imperial custody and executed for treason and crimes against the crown.

Broken two fingers and gash along side. Aderes's wing has heavy sword wounds. Partially healed, but tired. Troops nearly cut in half, many wounded.

Reporting back to Uru'baen tomorrow.

_**Day 65 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

Aderes took longer than usual to make the journey even after I completely healed his wing. Says it still hurts—it's the wing that took the crossbow bolts, too. Arrived late tonight.

Galbatorix has sent Taron to oversee the cleanup operations. I'm going back to Norwood. I want to see Selena.

_**Day 66 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

Selena. Beautiful, beautiful Selena. No more fighting, just peace.

So tired. Going to sleep.

_**Day 67 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

I slept nearly the whole day yesterday and feel slightly better. Aderes is also up and about, and his wing doesn't pain him anymore.

Selena had a miscarriage while I was gone. I told her that the child would rest, waiting for us in the afterlife. That there was nothing to be afraid of, because we would see him again.

In the end, she broke down and cried. As she wept into my shirt, I couldn't help but think about all the men who had died in the battles. Would they wait for their families?

_**Day 73 of Gnirps, 370 AR** _

I brought Selena today to the valley. The wildflowers were in full bloom, the valley a spreading blanket of color.

Selena laughed, lighting up with the first true laughter that I have seen since I returned. It was beautiful and peaceful, without fighting of any sort. I showed her some beginning staffwork. She moves with a cat's delicate grace.

Later, we just lay there on the ground together as Selena made silly stories out of the clouds.

_**Day 77 of Ginrps, 370 AR** _

There was a congratulatory banquet held at Uru'baen today. I didn't go. Galbatorix was amused.

_**Day 1 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

Today Selena spent the better part of a morning bent over a basin, throwing up. I could feel no sickness in her, though I suspect she is pregnant.

Is this normal for pregnant women? Must be unpleasant.

_**Day 10 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

Selena has been eating the strangest foods lately. Her meals yesterday consisted of pickles dipped in olive oil. Disgusting, yes, but she seemed delighted.

Triannon has filled in the gaps in my education about pregnancy. Apparently, 'morning sickness' and 'food fetishes' are normal. Glad I'm not female.

_**Day 11 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

We went to the healer today. Mia confirmed that Selena was pregnant, and she expressed her surprise that it was soon. The child will come mid-to-late retniw.

I will not miss the birth. Not this one.

_**Day 22 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

Selena seems rather cranky lately. Once again, Triannon says this is normal.

In an effort to cheer her up, I took her out again to the valley, and the lines in her face smoothed away. Selena laughed again, as if nature could take away the weight on her shoulders.

_**Day 32 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

Sereda has been missing all day. Selena is worried; she's been wearing herself (and the carpet) out, pacing back and forth. She keeps on saying that Sereda must be in trouble.

I think Sereda can take care of himself. He's been spending a lot of time in the woods lately. Perhaps he's found a lady wolf.

_**Day 35 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

Sereda is dead. We found his body on the front steps of Norwood, and Selena has been crying all day. Somebody tore his head off and ripped the body to pieces.

Whoever did this will pay. I'll see to that—they hurt Selena and insulted  _me_.

I won't stand for it.

_**Day 39 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

Glael.

That man. That foul, disgusting man. Did he really think he could get away with it? First for failing to destroy the Varden at Belatona, then for groping Selena, and now for killing the wolf.

Bad luck comes in threes? I think Glael will have to cope with just one more. He's gone too far with his stupidity this time, and I will  _kill_  him.

_**Day 42 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

I cornered him today in his suite at the palace. Blubbering idiot couldn't even die with dignity. He was on his knees and weeping like a ninny before I killed him.

The one I pity is Eridor. Being bound to that fat lump of lard, the death cost him more than he should have paid. But if so, he shouldn't have chosen Glael in the first place.

Justice.

_**Day 44 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

Galbatorix was a little bit annoyed about Glael's death, since the body made a wing of palace stink up. He didn't seem too surprised, though, and made no comment to me other than that to try to bury the body next time.

It's a bit startling, really. From Thirteen, we have become six. Yet why isn't he more…I don't know, emotional? I killed Glael preparing to face the consequences, to defend my actions. But Galbatorix seems strangely philosophical about it all, not angry.

Unsettling.

_**Day 54 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

I woke up in the middle of the night, jerked awake by a dream. Not of Glael, not of the dying men on the battlefield, but of Eridor.

Eridor's dying cries. His pain, his shock upon realizing that the Rider he had chosen was dead, and I was at the root of it. His only crime was to choose the wrong man, and I have condemned him for it. I have destroyed him for it.

Selena was there, trying to reassure me. To wipe away the bad memories, to leave only the good ones. But she doesn't understand, doesn't understand the pain of having your identity severed. And then I thought of Brom, and his own anguish when Saphira died. What was it like? To know that you were already dead, only left breathing by some foul quirk of fate?

To have Aderes die? Unimaginable. Beyond all hells, that is a fate worse than death.

_**Day 55 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

Couldn't go back to sleep after the dream. I pulled myself gently out of Selena's arms and went in search of Aderes.

He was gruff about it, as usual. We didn't say much. Just sat together and watched the sun rise.

_**Day 60 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

I have developed a habit of waking early each morning. Today Selena caught me as I was trying to slip out, her eyes sleepy and curious.

She asked me what I was doing, and I told her about watching the sunrise with Aderes. Without saying a word, she got out of bed, placed her hand on mine, and joined us on the hill to watch the color come back to the land.

_**Day 76 of Remmus, 370 AR** _

Today, Selena suggested some possible names. I didn't say much, except to debunk some of her odder choices—Gurnet, Rotsi, Surker. In truth, I don't think any of these names are right.

Murtagh, Evelyn, and Hestia. Azula. They're all dead and gone now, but—well, I don't know. It's almost silly. As if our child was named after one of them, they could live on.

I didn't mention it. Selena came up with a list, but I can't remember any of them.

_**Day 1 of Nmatua, 370 AR** _

New season. Trees are starting change color. Selena's belly is noticeably bigger as the life within her grows.

She would probably hit me for saying it, but she looks so beautiful pregnant.

_**Day 11 of Nmatua, 370 AR** _

Messenger from Galbatorix today. He wants me to see him in Uru'baen about something. I hope it's not a lengthy assignment.

_**Day 12 of Nmatua, 370 AR** _

I went to Uru'baen yesterday, and he told me with a dry smile that it was my turn to oversee the rebuild efforts for Belatona and Feinster.

Oh, bloody hell. It's drudge work, and Taron has been called away to deal with some 'other' problems, whatever that may mean. Since the rebuilding of the cities  _is_  vital, I have been called upon to fill his shoes.

Very well. Duty is duty. It's only until the twelfth of retniw—Taron has been given one full season to deal with his 'problems'. I will be back at Selena's side in time for the birth.

_**Day 13 of Nmatua, 370 AR** _

I have arrived in Belatona and have been given lodgings in one of the few inns that haven't completely collapsed. I wonder what Taron has been doing all this time—the two cities look terrible, as if the battle was fought only yesterday.

Buildings, roads, welfare, accounts. What fun.

_**Day 28 of Nmatua, 370 AR** _

Taron has taken care of the majority of refugees; there are temporary lodgings for the majority of them. Crime is still rampant, so I have revised some sections of the local aw and posted extra watches in attempts to deter it.

Contracters have been hired from Dras-Leona to help rebuild. Materials are being taken from the mountains; there's plenty of stone and timber. The once-governor of Belatona, Riekster, was all insistent that I rebuild his castle first. Idiot.

_**Day 42 of Nmatua, 370 AR** _

Construction of the cities is well underway. The ports, as being the most vital part of the cities, are nearly complete. The buildings, though, will take more time.

Taron has not yet returned.

I hope Selena is all right.

_**Day 55 of Nmatua, 370 AR** _

The roads are being rebuilt. Many of them are overgrown, choked with weeds, and will take time to clear away.

It's easy work, at least. As opposed to other assignments where I run all over Alagaesia. Still, I would much prefer to be back at Norwood.

_**Day 67 of Nmatua, 370 AR** _

Port Central has reopened. Belatona's trade is beginning. Tentatively, yes, but ships are beginning to dock once more at the harbor.

Feinster is more of a problem. Farther away from Dras-Leona, supplies are harder to ship. It is still somewhat decrepit.

_**Day 75 of Nmatua, 370 AR** _

Both Lord Riekster of Belatona and Lord Jareby of Feinster have been squabbling like children, trying to steal the most out of the rebuilding budget for their cities. Riekster  _insists_  that a rebuilt market bazaar is completely necessary, while Jareby tries to argue for an upgraded harbor.

Politics. It's everywhere.

_**Day 6 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

I have gotten things sorted out. Neither Jareby nor Riekster got anything that they whined for. Just what was necessary, and perhaps a tiny bit more that was not.

I am awaiting Taron's return.

_**Day 12 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

It is the twelfth of retniw.

Taron isn't here. I've half a mind to leave anyway, but Galbatorix was quite insistent that there always be one Rider to oversee everything.

_**Day 15 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

Taron is  _still_  not here. I'll give him two more days before I leave anyway.

_**Day 17 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

Finally. He's arrived, looking slightly paler. Rispah and Aderes seemed taciturn, tense with each other.

I leave for Norwood. With any luck, I will be there by tomorrow night. I hope Selena's all right.

_**Day 18 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

I can't believe it.

He's born. Selena gave birth a few days ago to a son. The birth was premature, behind Mia's prediction of mid-to-late retniw, but you wouldn't know it from the look of him. He's so—so beautiful. So innocent.

All the names that Selena had thought of—none of them fit. Not as well as Murtagh does. So I asked Selena, and she agreed. He's named after my brother, dead at the age of nine. Killed when Onir Farinson hit him one too many times and broke his neck.

A  _son_. My son.

Murtagh.


	3. Shattered Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Counterpart to Silver Pup's White Roses.

**_Day 30 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

I think I've been walking on air these past few days, or else extremely stunned. Murtagh has grown very visibly, from a wrinkly little red lump to some...well, to my child. Our child, that is. Clearly, he has Selena's eyes, but I can see Evelyn's smile in him. His face is most likely still too young to be sure, but I flatter myself that he has my nose and mouth. His hair is dark brown, with Selena's silkiness to it and slightly lighter tints to it that look almost exactly like my brother's. He's perfect, the most beautiful child I could've hoped for.

I'm doting. I'm doting, aren't I? I know this might sound rather silly, but I'm afraid to let him out of my sight. Such perfection can't be true, can it? And Murtagh is yet only a child. A baby. Selena, after all, is already an adult. She can protect herself somewhat. But Murtagh? He's so young, so easy...so easy to disappear. So easy to corrupt.

Illogical, isn't it? I can't help but wonder if this is what fatherhood truly  _is_. Not that my sick bastard father ever understood that.

_**Day 35 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

I woke up today to find both my son and my wife sleeping in my bed. For a moment, it was almost disorienting, a snapshot of the past that did not belong in the present. Selena could be my mother, her face not yet burdened with the pain of being Farinson's wife. Murtagh would be...well, Murtagh. Evelyn and Hestia would be absent—absent but alive, just waiting to surprise us with breakfast.

While I wax poetic about memory, reality was not as painful to be expected when it finally hit. It's different. Different, but also whole in its own way.

Mornings make me philosophical, don't they?

_**Day 40 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

Aderes met Murtagh for the first time today. Characteristically, that overgrown lizard's first comment was something along the lines of,  _How scrawny. Are you_ sure _he's yours?_

That aside, I do believe that Aderes has taken to Murtagh. All day long I've had to put up with conversations that reroute continually towards Murtagh, and small conversational quips in my head. Not that it's unpleasant, of course, but I find it rather amusing that Aderes seems more obsessed about Murtagh than even I. And truly, that's saying something.

Yes, Aderes, I know. It's a miracle that a sour old codger like me could've fathered something so soft and sweet. For the fifth time, good  _night_.

**_Day 44 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

A messenger came to Norwood earlier; Galbatorix wishes to see me. I have a nagging suspicion that it will result in a long assignment. If it does, I'll just have to figure something out to delay it. I don't want to leave until Murtagh is stronger.

I'll take Selena with me to the palace, I think. It will do us both good to leave Norwood for a little while; besides, Galbatorix might understand the hint that I wish to involve myself more domestically for the time being. He's very good at picking up such things, after all.

**_Day 45 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

Well, well, well.

So this is Selena's fiancée. How interesting. I can certainly see why she would want to leave such a lecherous bastard. Unfortunately, it seems that when it comes down to it, Lord Aithril has no balls for this kind of thing.

Literally, I'm afraid. Poor fellow seems rather distressed. I should do something to ease his pain. After all, never let it be known that I'm not considerate.

**_Day 47 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

Blast it! I've only remembered just now. I have to return to the palace tomorrow; there's been a series of odd attacks near Narda. It may be nothing, or the work of the Varden. In any case, Oreal and Tiriac have charge of it for now.

Oh, and Lord Aithril? I'm afraid he's a bit inconvenienced. Losing multiple body functions can do that to you.

_**Day 48 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

Taron is dead.

We found his body in Rispah's tower, curled up against the dragon's talons. Suicide, it looks like. The reason is clear—Taron was heavily in debt, and I hear that he had taken to drinking. Poor sod couldn't keep his wits together.

Five of us left. True, Taron's death was caused by something rather more mundane than a heroic death by the Varden's hands, but nevertheless, five. Five out of Thirteen. As Riders, we are expected to live for all eternity. Well, perhaps not  _all_  eternity, but certainly a good chunk of it. But now? Not a full century has passed and already the majority of us are gone.

The thought is humbling, somehow.

_**Day 50 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

There has been another attack, further south down the coast. Two men were captured, but they killed themselves rather than give up their secrets. Oreal reports indications that they will move further towards Teirm. For what purpose, I'm not too sure yet.

Anyway, there's no reason to assume it's anything similar to Varden work yet. For one, there's no reason why they should be attacking Narda and/or Teirm, because it's the middle of retniw and there's barely any shipping going on in those northern ports. Piracy, perhaps? But for what purpose? Like I said, it's hardly lucrative.

In any case, it's not my problem. Oreal, nitwit though he is, should be able to handle it capably. Unless, of course, it really does turn out to be a Varden operation and flares into battle. Hopefully, if that comes around, Galbatorix will see sense enough to replace him.

**_Day 52 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

I brought Murtagh out to see Aderes again today when Selena was asleep. At last, someone exists in this world that can bring out the nonexistent soft side of that dragon. At one point, Aderes was actually cooing as Murtagh clambered over his tail.

Yes, you  _were_ , Aderes. Don't try to deny it; I know what I heard. Anyway, it not necessarily a bad thing, now is it? It's good to know that there's something soft underneath all those prickles.

On another note, I have to return to the palace tomorrow. A small village at the base of the Coastal Mountains was attacked; four people have died. It does just seem like a random act of violence, or perhaps bandits—why would the Varden burn a small hunting village?—but in any case, it must be stopped.

**_Day 54 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

What  _is_  all this? I've been digging through the latest sheaf of 'reports' from Oreal, if you can call it that. More like a blizzard of random papers thrown together by caprice and whimsy. The notes are scrawled, some of them blurred, and some of them looking as if dogs chewed on them and spat them back out.

The messenger who brought them lies half-dead in an infirmary of the palace. Attempts to contact Oreal or his dragon have been unsuccessful, and we can't so much as scry them anywhere. Then again, Oreal most likely has protected himself from scrying as have the most of us, so that's not very surprising.

Another Rider must be sent, since Oreal has vanished to gods-know-where. Another Rider will have to take care of the mess he created. Most likely it will be me.

I don't want—well, I don't know what I want. I  _would_  like to stay a little bit longer—with Selena and Murtagh, with Norwood—at least until gnirps starts, but this is duty. It's what I swore to do, in my oaths of loyalty to the crown. Galbatorix  _will_ send another Rider if I ask, but...well, I don't know.

It feels almost cowardly.

**_Day 55 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

I think he sensed my discomfort, but in the end Galbatorix sent Paris. Paris and Nia leave tomorrow for the coast, to sort out the situation in my place.

As a compromise—I will remain here at Norwood, but will head for Uru'baen in the mornings to aid Galbatorix in the matter. It's not perfect, and in a way I still do feel like a coward, but it's the best as to be hoped under the circumstances.

Just till gnirps starts. If the situation has not improved by the time the new season rolls around, I will go.

**_Day 57 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

Selena gave me two letters today to send to her family. Surprisingly, one is addressed to her father. I suppose there must be more than simple "I hate you" ranting enclosed in there, since it seems rather lengthy.

Mail caravans are notoriously unreliable; the letters might never get there. I'll have to do it myself, but I don't know  _when_  I'll find time to send them—maybe enroute as I head to the coast?

I'll find time, somehow. Or I'll find a messenger to send them, one that's been spelled enough to be trustworthy. Yet another promise to add the growing list of duties. Speaking of duty, I have to return to Uru'baen later. A messenger arrived about an hour ago; there's been another attack. This time barely three miles from Teirm—two men dead.

I should've gone. Paris can't handle something like this, the fool...

**_Day 58 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

Paris managed to capture one of them and get enough information out him. He  _claims_  to be from the Varden, but the question is,  _why_? Why would the Varden conduct a series of completely random attacks in a season that's not famous for its fantastic trading? What is the  _point_? It sounds just too hackneyed and doesn't make any sense. I think the man is lying, but Paris appears to believe all the rubbish the prisoner spouted.

I  _knew_  I should've gone. But then, I find myself thinking that if I  _had_  gone, I'd worry anyway for leaving Selena and Murtagh unprotected. Either way, headaches abound.

It's too late for second thoughts. Galbatorix can't recall Paris without more evidence of incompetence than just my instincts. I'll just have to wait for gnirps to roll around, damn it.

_**Day 59 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

I need to stop.

Reviewing on these past two days, I think I have been distracted, slapdash, and generally rushed. Not just with Galbatorix, but also with Selena and Murtagh. If I have chosen to stay home, then I might as well make the best of it. I haven't even  _seen_  Murtagh these past two days except for early morning and late at night. And both times he tends to be asleep, anyway.

I will stay home today. That's a start, isn't it?

_**Day 60 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

So much for my promise to relax. A messenger has arrived bearing a note with a distinct note of displeasure. I must return to Uru'baen.

_**Day 61 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

Paris has lost the trail of the so-called Varden rebels. Apparently, Paris followed the prisoner's advice and got himself lost in a bog near Teirm. The man commited suicide laughing in his face, and Paris is currently having a whiny temper tantrum.

So, now we wait. We wait for them to show up with their next theft or attack. Or perhaps, they'll just disappear completely now and we have nothing to show for the deaths and expense put into chasing them. Wonderful, isn't it?

I have charts and maps of Teirm and the surrounding areas. Based on their past routes and habits, I think that they won't actually hit the city itself, but the cluster of small villages near Woadark Lake are vulnerable. Or, they might do an about-face and hit Sharktooth. I'll have to plot it out to be sure.

_**Later** _

A messenger from Norwood has arrived—Murtagh is sick, badly so.

I've got to go. These bandits, rebels, whatever, can wait.

_**Day 62 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

He'll be fine. He'll be fine! It was pneumonia—bad, but nothing that magic can't heal. If I hadn't been here, if I had gone to the coast and hadn't been back in time, he would've died—I would've lost my son, my child, my...

Family. That's a duty, too, one that I should think has equal balance with loyalty to the crown. It's not something to be set aside for more convenient times, not some interesting trinket to play with and then forget.

I can't forget that. I  _won't_  forget it.

_**Day 63 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

Snow fell today, the first good snowfall we've had all retniw. We didn't go out into the snow on the grounds that Murtagh might fall ill again, so instead we had the fireplace lit. Murtagh discovered the sticky pleasure of marshmallows, much to everybody's amusement, and Selena curled up near the fireplace with a book in hand.

As for me? Well, I gave Murtagh a bath after the marshmallow episode. He was a mess, with sticky white all over his stubby hair and gooey fingers. He was laughing throughout the entire thing, splashing water and wriggling about without a care in the world for wet tunics or dignity.

You know, I can't completely believe that he is my son. That I could father such childlike innocence. Murtagh is so young, so...free.

I will have to answer for this tomorrow, with Galbatorix. No summons have come, but I was supposed to leave for Uru'baen again today. But this time dedicated to—to family, to Norwood—it's wonderful. Something that I won't regret, no matter what price I must pay for my negligence of duty.

**_Day 64 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

I went to Uru'baen today expecting to be given a lecture on duty, loyalty, and responsibility. But every single time I think I know how to predict Galbatorix's reaction, I am proven wrong.

He wasn't angry or upset—the expression on his face, I think, can be best described as amusement. He commented offhand that he never quite expected me to become a family man, but it wasn't altogether such an unpleasant change.

As I was busy wondering whether that held negative or positive connotations, he continued talking. I needn't return to Uru'baen unless something truly urgent comes out. Paris, for good or for ill, will control the situation. My—for lack of a better term—'vacation' will last until gnirps. Then, I am expected to honor the compromise I made.

I didn't know what to say then, and I still am not quite sure what to say now. Is this punishment? Or reward? Or some combination of the two? In a way, I  _am_  pleased...but also, a little confused.

_**Day 65 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

So, here I am in Norwood. It's a beautiful, retniw day out there, with the air striking the perfect balance between cool and cold. Charts on the table, maps on the wall, Selena and Murtagh in the bedroom. Still asleep, may I add.

The raids not my responsibility anymore until gnirps—and besides, this will most likely be the only 'vacation' like this that I will get for a long time. I may as well treasure this while I can, in any case.

I think I could get used to this.

**_Day 68 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

Today, Selena asked me about magic. She was quite persistent about it, actually, to the point that answers such as, "Maybe later" or "it doesn't matter" don't fly. It's an intriguing idea, though. But not everybody has a talent for magic—it might not work out.

Selena has that  _look_  on her face—I have a distinct feeling that the subject will come up again.

_**Day 69 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

No, the subject has not been dropped at all. Selena asked me yesterday night and today, and that's why I'm in the library, looking for those spellbooks that I know are there but can never find.

The thing is, you must have an innate talent for magic. Otherwise, not even the best teachers in the world can ever help you. Is there a way to be certain? I seem to recall a diagnosis spell that should do it. If I can find it, that is.

_**Day 72 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

I found them. Not in the library. They were actually tucked in one of the storage rooms, underneath a pile of clothes that haven't been worn since the beginning of eternity. The books themselves are readable, if a bit musty.

I found the testing spell. I'll try it out sometime; see if it works before I bring up the subject of magic again.

**_Day 74 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

It worked. Not very well, yes, but it worked.

Well, that settles it, I suppose. There're only two weeks or so before the season ends; not enough time to start formal training. Maybe when I return...

Speaking of which, I haven't gotten reports of any sort from Uru'baen for days now. The raids are over, perhaps? Paris has succeeded? Unlikely as it is.

I'm not going to worry. There will be plenty of time to worry in the new season. I have been relieved of my duties, however politely, and they are not my concern.

_**Day 76 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

It snowed again today, a beautiful spread of white blanketing Norwood. This time, we brought Murtagh out with us (against Selena's half-hearted protests, of course!). Bundling him up inside enough blankets that he looked like a giant snowball, Murtagh finally experienced the beauty that is snow.

It made me laugh, I admit. Murtagh tried to eat some of the snow—or lick it, rather, since his arms were a little bit inconvenienced inside all those blankets. He ended up getting a faceful of it and had such a look of surprise as it melted down his face.

Then, of all things,  _Aderes_  joined us. Aderes, the royal grump who despises snow even more than he hates idiots. Shocking. Later, we went to his tower roost where Selena and I watched Murtagh scramble over Aderes's tail and admire the look of steady patience adorning that dragon's face.

All in all, a wonderful day.

_**Day 79 of Retniw, 370 AR** _

Murtagh is growing so quickly. I know, he's not even a season old, but I swear I can see him growing before my eyes.

He's so young. So...untouched. There are so many paths in the world that he might take, so many different ways. Will he, too, become a Rider? Or will he become somebody else, molded by the world into a different life other than the one I lead—a farmer? A hunter? A politician?

If life continues as it does, I don't think I'll be there for much of his growing up. But for what I can, for how I can...I will protect him. Watch him. Even more than Selena, my duty lies with him. And also, my love.

**_Day 82 of Retniw, 370 AR_ **

Gnirps is drawing nearer, and soon this idyllic rest will end. I have been preparing for whatever should await me at Uru'baen, whatever mess that Paris has made.

If I'm lucky, then Paris has fixed the mess, captured the raiders, and all will be well. If not, Paris will have gotten himself killed and there will be a big bloody mess. Well, I suppose I'd be lucky if Paris got killed anyway. He was always a bit of an idiot.

That aside...I do hope it won't take too long, whatever it is.

**_Day 2 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

It's a mixed bag of news, with a ribbon of chaos tying it all off. First, Oreal has been found. Or what's left of him, anyway. Paris is alive at Uru'baen but disgraced—apparently, he misread the signs, trusted the wrong person, and ended up having nearly all his men drowned in quicksand and/or arrow-shot with nothing to show for it.

It's not the Varden, like I thought. It's pirates-slash-bandits, depending on the season. They're roosted on Sharktooth, which is notorious for bogs and swamps. And quicksand, of course. Now that the new season is upon us, I'm to get rid of them. They're bad for shipping, after all, and demoralizing in the cities' faith in the crown to keep their ports safe.

Six companies of soldiers should do it. I need maps of the terrain, though, and the most recent dates about twenty years ago. Who knows what might have changed since then? I'll have to search for more recent ones, then.

**_Day 3 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

Found maps dating back thirty, forty, even an old moth-eaten one that goes all the way back to sixty years ago with little rustic 'heere be Monstyers' written on it. Not exactly helpful.

**_Day 4 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

I can't delay any longer. Even under the best of conditions, it will take me a day and half to get to Teirm plateau. The governor has promised us seven companies of men to fight with. Ships will take another day to sail, and I need to do a sortie over the land before doing anything else.

Calculated time? Two or three weeks, at least. I will say goodbye to Selena and Murtagh later. I should set up some way for them to contact me should anything go wrong...

No. They'll be fine. It's only a few weeks, after all.

**_Day 6 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

It has been raining foully all day. Aderes is sulking because he had to fly in this disgusting weather, and I'm none too pleased either. The ships cannot sail in this weather for fear of a storm.

On a slightly better note, I have been scrying. Aderes took me for a brief flight over Sharktooth, and I have enough that I can scry their current activites and clandestine ports. Apparently, the pirates cannot sail either. What a surprise.

I do hope everything is all right at Norwood. Perhaps it's just the terminal boredom, but I worry that something is wrong.

**_Day 7 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

The southern end of Sharktooth is lined with craggy rocks underwater, but it is the least guarded of all of them. We'll attack from there—the sailing will be difficult, but we're not in any particular hurry. The rain has left, leaving a dense fog in its place. I should be able to clear that away with magic, though, especially in the area where we are now.

We set sail in a few hours. If all goes well, we should land on Sharktooth by tomorrow night.

**_Day 9 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

We have landed—it was difficult, given the tendency of the underwater rocks to impale the ships. Still, we're here, and the pirates apparently suspect nothing. They have not even attempted to sail.

Attack tomorrow.

**_Day 12 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

Six dead. The rest of the pirates have been bundled up for royal justice, to be transported back to Uru'baen.

It was surprisingly easy, actually. They were caught completely unawares, and barely put up any sort of defense. Only two men died on our side.

All that's left is clean up, I suppose. See if there were any others who escaped our net before returning. The pirates have left sizable amounts of loot behind—coins, mostly, but also odd heaps of jewelry and random trinkets. That will need to be gathered, too, and taken back to Uru'baen.

It will be about five more days before I can return to Norwood.

**_Day 16 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

Transporting a group of surly, escape-prone pirates is easier said than done, but I only had to take them to Teirm, after all. Somewhat of a relief. Guards will bring them back to Uru'baen eventually, after Teirm is done with them.

Most of the loot will be catalogued before returning to those who have legitimate claims. Admittedly, a small fraction of it has been slipped discreetly into the soldiers' pockets. I myself am guilty; I have taken a small butterfly clip for Selena.

I should find something for Murtagh, too. Teirm has good craftsmen. I'll look there later before returning home.

**_Day 17 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

Aderes and I have returned to Norwood. Nothing bad has happened in my absence—Murtagh has grown, but then again he seems to grow every minute I watch him. The manor is fine, Selena is fine, and Murtagh—well, he's wonderful. No need to worry, after all. They can handle themselves quite capably.

I gave Selena the butterfly clip, and it does look quite beautiful in her hair. For Murtagh, I gave him the horn I found in Teirm's markets—white horn, gilded with gold. He seems to think it's some kind of a cup, which makes for an amusing sight as he tries to drink water out of it while the other end leaks into his lap.

I know I say this every time I come back, but it holds ever deeper connotations for me now. It truly is wonderful to be home.

**_Day 20 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

Selena's first magic lesson took place today. Or magic history lesson, really. I think I may have hit her with a little too much information, unloading the entire history of magic, the ancient language, the Grey Folk, the Riders, and everything else onto her. The dazed look on her face as she left her room was something of an indication.

I wonder how far she'll be able to progress? As she's not a Rider, there'll be limits, of course, to just how much sheer power she can pull out. But still, not everything in magic is about power. A lot of it is in subltety, accomplishing massive things by a few delicate triggers. In that area, I do think she'll be able to achieve quite a lot.

**_Day 23 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

We took Murtagh out to the secret valley today. The wildflowers were blooming in riots of color, and Murtagh was laughing nearly the entire time. While I taught Selena some more of the longbow, he busied himself by pulling the feathers off my arrows and digging holes with the tips in the dirt.

I couldn't even be angry, really. The look on his face, the joyous innocence—the air of happiness he carried around him was contagious, almost.

**_Day 30 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

I've been staying at Norwood these days—teaching Selena archery and magic, playing with Murtagh, and watching over them. Selena's magic lessons are progressing wonderfully. Well, with a few mishaps on the way. Like I said, she advances furthest when it comes to subtle variations—bending water, shaping fire, moving stones.

I want to take Murtagh flying on Aderes one day. I really do think that he will be a Rider one day—he and Aderes connect well. Or perhaps it's just wishful thinking and Aderes has become soft in his old age. Whatever.

I have had no summons from Uru'baen lately, which is somewhat relieving and yet a little bit perplexing.

**_Day 38 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

Oh, gods.

I have not thought about my father for so long. I thought I had used up all my anger against him, that I had finally laid the memories to rest. But I haven't. They don't leave. They stay buried within your mind, waiting for you to uncover the sharp edges of their pain.

Yesterday, Selena asked me about the scar that I bear on my neck. My father's token of his love for me, say. And at that moment...it was as if I was eleven, thirteen, fifteen again. Hearing their voices again. Hearing my siblings die, hearing my mother die, while I alone survived. Fate's funny like that, isn't it? I find it incredibly ironic that the only one to survive the murderer is a murderer himself.

I told Selena this. I told her. I told her what I have never been able to tell anyone aside from Galbatorix. About my family, about my mother. About my father, and about me. That I, at fifteen years, killed my father for killing my family.

For killing me.

**_Day 39 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

When I married Selena, I took an oath to protect her. To love her, to cherish her. To that end, I will keep to my vows, protecting both she and Murtagh to whatever ends are required. Both of them deserve better, to live in as untainted a world as I can offer.

My family is dead. The years go by, and even the strongest magic won't bring them back. But I won't lose their memory—I won't lose them by dishonoring them. To protect and to cherish—if nothing, I learned that from them.

I refuse to let the past happen again.

**_Day 40 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

We went to the secret valley, the three of us together. Aderes joined us a little while later, settling into the valley with a thump. Murtagh played with the flowers, while Selena and I leaned against Aderes, watching the sun set. There were no words to clutter the silence, no troubles to be recalled.

I...maybe the anger will never truly leave. There will always be some residue of hatred, a curse upon my father's name. But for my mother, for my sisters, for my brother...?

I think—I think I can let them go. Let their souls rest in peace.

_**Day 44 of Gnirps, 371 AR** _

It rained today, a light drizzle that stretched through most of the day. I was prepared to stay inside all day, but Selena took my hand and urged me out into the garden.

Like the other time that Selena brought me out into the rain, we danced. Somehow, though, it wasn't awkward or embarrassing as the phrase may lead you to believe. It felt...right, somehow. As if that were the only thing that truly mattered.

**_Day 47 of Gnirps, 371 AR_ **

All good things must end...I leave tomorrow for Surda. There's going to be a treaty meeting at Aberon, to establish what is being grandly heralded as "a pact between two nations to promote cooperation, stability, and prosperity among their peoples."

Orlane and Termain, as well as Aderes and I, will represent the Empire, as well as dozens of clerks, officials, nobilities, and whatnot. Should be a ravishing affair.

_**Day 49 of Gnirps, 371 AR** _

At least they know how to hold a banquet, if nothing else. Upon our arrival in Surda, we were treated to the most excessive display of wealth and groveling hospitality that would put any noble to shame.

Perhaps I've grown plain and rustic, but I find myself longing for good old Norwood fare. I'd forgotten just how odd exotic dishes can get—larks' tongues in aspic, smoked salmon in mango juice. I didn't even know larks had tongues, really.

The talks begin tomorrow.

_**Day 51 of Gnirps, 371 AR** _

Well, not anything particularly noteworthy. Long, flowery speeches about how they'll do this but won't do that. Gemsworth, our official ambassador to Surda, does most of the talking. His multitudes of assistants pop in a word here or there, and the armies of clerks are always busy scribbling something in illegible handwriting.

And I? I sit around and look intimidating. What fun.

_**Day 54 of Gnirps, 371 AR** _

Not much is new. The talks are progressing with all the speed and fervor of a half-dead tortoise. Aderes seems as bored as I; he amuses his time in Surda seeing how high he can fly into the clouds.

How long before I can return to Norwood? To Murtagh, and to Selena?

_**Day 59 of Gnirps, 371 AR** _

The treaty talks are winding up...temporarily. A temporary resolution has been reached and accepted by both sides. Which most likely means there will be another flurry of long-winded, dull speeches sometime in the near future, but for now it means I am released from the terminal monotony.

Aderes and I are returning to Norwood.

_**Day 61 of Gnrips, 371 AR** _

We're back! Selena, Murtagh, and I spent the whole day in Aderes's tower exchanging news.

**_Day 64 of Gnrips, 371 AR_ **

Galbatorix seems pleased with how the treaty talks have turned out. He was rather amused by my one-page account of the goings-on in Surda, detailing the wonderful time I had.

The next talks are set sometime next season. Yes, sadly I will have to go in order to properly impress them. Still, at least I have the consolation that that's a season away, and Galbatorix has promised that there will be no more missions before then.

**_Day 67 of Gnrips, 371 AR_ **

The messenger I sent out with Selena's letters has returned. He brings with him a ring, engraved with the letters  _BB_ —Selena's father's ring. Her father and brother are dead, he reports.

Selena has not left her room since.

_**Day 68 of Gnrips, 371 AR** _

I've given orders for her to be left alone. Murtagh will stay with me with the time being.

She needs time to grieve on her own, I think.

_**Day 73 of Gnrips, 371 AR** _

It's been a week now, and Selena hasn't even left her room. I can hear her crying all the time, but more often than not there's just silence. Blank, dull silence that carries a thousand meanings.

I'll wait another week before trying to cajole her out.

_**Day 80 of Gnrips, 371 AR** _

I went in. I tried to convince her to come out, to visit her garden. As no one has been allowed to touch it, weeds have run wild. It would make her feel better, to be out in the fresh air...

At that, she started crying again. Between tears, she said that it would remind her of Garrow, her brother. Of when they played in the garden together, amongst their mother's flowers.

I don't know what to do. Perhaps she just needs more time? But this can't be healthy...Murtagh needs her. Yesterday, he was asking me why his mother didn't want to see him anymore.

_**Day 84 of Gnrips, 371 AR** _

She came out! Admittedly, only to see Murtagh, but it's a start. It's an improvement. Perhaps I can get her out into the garden next. The exercise, with nature around her—that would do her good, wouldn't it?

_**Day 1 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

Selena went out into the gardens today, and a much healthier complexion came into her face after a few minutes in the open air. Aderes sat himself firmly in the garden and watched Selena constantly, an expression between nausea and cool boredom on his face. Kind of like a cat coughing up a hairball.

It's wonderful to see her out. Murtagh scrambled to join her, crawling into her lap as she sat in the gardens.

**_Day 9 of Remmus, 371 AR_ **

Murtagh has learned to crawl, much to Selena and I's delight and to the servants' dismay. He has an uncanny knack for getting himself dirty, be it from mud or honey. Triannon in particular commented that if nobody washed him for a week, you could grow beets in the dirt you'd wash off him.

Selena seems better now, having made her peace with death.

**_Day 14 of Remmus, 371 AR_ **

Selena's pregnant?

She's  _pregnant?_  How? The new healer, whatever her name is, told me just today, but how is that possible? Yes, the acts of baby-making were quite plentiful, but I surely would have known if she were. A pregnant woman  _feels_  a certain way, and Selena is decidedly un-pregnant to that instinct.

Huh. How odd.

_**Day 19 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

Do pregnant women usually get fevers and are unable to get out of bed? Do they have difficulty breathing and sharp pain in the abdomen? Yet that healer seems certain, and is not shy about broadcasting this opinion to ignorant  _men_.

I asked Triannon, and she also seemed doubtful. Besides, I don't recall any of this happening to Selena while she was pregnant with Murtagh.

_**Day 29 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

Her condition is getting worse. She's had horrible headaches and abdomen pain these past few days. Something's wrong, but I'm not trained enough in the area of medicine to tell.

_**Day 31 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

So it  _is_  something bad! It took long enough to figure it out, don't you think? Something's growing in Selena's womb, but it's not a baby. A malignant growth of some kind…why didn't that useless healer tell me sooner?

I can't handle something like this. I need to find a  _good_  healer, somebody with enough control and specialization to identify and cure it properly. Perhaps Galbatorix? But I went through the same training as him; our teachers never mentioned anything specific about curing the female anatomy.

I'll ask anyway. Maybe he knows something. Somebody.  _Anything!_

_**Day 32 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

He doesn't. The problem is, none of our teachers prepared us to be in a situation like this, where the more delicate parts of a woman would be set ill by something from the inside. I could try—but if something went wrong, if I accidentally used the wrong words or said the wrong spell, I might end up killing her...

The only ones I can think of who have enough knowledge to do this would be the elves, but gods know they'd never help, curse them. Rudimentary spellcasters? One of the—no, they're not trained properly for this...

_**Day 34 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

I have been searching inside the royal library, and I've found a few texts that refer to the thing inside Selena. It's a parasite. A cluster of parasites that feed off the host and reproduce every few days, growing in size. The book had these ghastly illustrations of people with huge growths wobbling on their arms or legs. I can only suppose it's because they are inside her womb, that she has similar signs to pregnancy. It kills by sucking all the nutrition out of its host, essentially starving it to death in anywhere from a few weeks to two or three months.

A potion called Orvere Das'ra kills it, but I can't find a recipe for the blasted thing. None of the books concerning potions or herbs ever mention it, either. So why the hell do they mention it, anyway, if they don't tell you how to make it?

I need somebody who can make potions. A witch. A witch...

Angela. She owes me for saving her life on Vroengard, even if she swore never to speak to me again. It's time to call in that debt.

**_Day 35 of Remmus, 371 AR_ **

Last time I met her, it was on Vroengard. I'll start searching there, but I don't think she'll have stayed there. She likes to be where the action is, after all, and Vroengard is nothing but a ghost island now.

I have to find her. Quickly.

**_Day 38 of Remmus, 371 AR_ **

I'm casting out mentally, to make the job faster. There's nobody on this whole bloody island except maybe lemurs.

Action. Where is there action now? Narda? Teirm? Dras-Leona, Belatona, Feinster? Surda?

Aberon.

Aberon! The treaty. The treaty talks were held there, and there'll most likely be talks again there. If there's any action on this whole continent, it will be there.

Three days to Aberon.

**_Day 41 of Remmus, 371 AR_ **

Had Aderes land me in a deserted field a few miles away from Aberon. In the city and searching.

**_Day 42 of Remmus, 371 AR_ **

Nothing yet.

**_Day 43 of Remmus, 371 AR_ **

I can't be wrong. I can't afford to be wrong. She has to be here, somewhere. Somewhere...I'll check the outskirts.

_**Day 44 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

Found her. Living in the woods at the eastern edge of Aberon.

She was none too pleased, but then again I'm not particularly in the mood for niceties either. She hates me? Fine. Wants to ignore me? Fine. But not at Selena's expense. Aderes and I saved her life, however crudely, and my actions are not to be paid for by Selena's life.

She agreed, in the end. It'll be ready by tomorrow.

_**Day 45 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

Got it. Returning to Norwood...I can't be too late.

_**Day 46 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

She's still alive. Thin, pale, but alive.

I gave her the potion...nothing's changed so far. What if Angela gave me some poison or the other, or just colored water? It can't be. She's not that dishonorable.

Gods, if Selena dies, I'll  _kill_  her...

**_Day 53 of Remmus. 371 AR_ **

Selena's getting better! Color has come back into her cheeks and she's gaining weight back. Noticeably, with her cheeks losing that parched, hollow look. Her eyes are brighter, and her temperature's back to normal.

Thank the gods, she's better. She's alive, and she's  _healthy_. She'll be fine.

**_Day 65 of Remmus, 371 AR_ **

She walked today, an entire circuit around our bedroom without falling down a single time. Admittedly, she did come close, but still.

It's a good sign.

_**Day 68 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

Selena and I made love again today, the first time since her illness. She was glowing by the end of it, a vibrant, healthy blush on her face. My Aiedail is whole once more—in mind, body, and spirit.

_**Day 70 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

Today I got a letter from Uru'baen. The treaty talks are scheduled for the end of this season; I will have to leave soon.

Galbatorix inquired into Selena's health, asking if she was better. He also offered his condolences for her family's deaths. Selena did not seem particularly reassured when I passed this bit of news on.

_**Day 71 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

Murtagh walked today! And perhaps I'm already jumping ahead a bit too far, but I want to take him flying on Aderes already. Or take him horseback riding...I was joking, Aderes. No mere horse can measure up to you, of course.

But honestly, it's an idea. I truly do think that Murtagh will be a Rider someday—it should make sense that he should love the freedom of flying as well as I do, as well as Selena does.

In any case, it will have to wait. I have to leave for Surda in about a week or so.

_**Day 76 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

We went into the garden today. In the height of remmus, the garden is truly flourishing. Mostly with weeds, as nobody's touched it recently. Still, splashes of color run throughout the greenery, bringing life to the ground. Selena seems to blossom amongst the flowers, as if she were kin to the vibrancy of remmus.

_**Day 81 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

Time to go. Hopefully, it won't take too long—barely two weeks last time, if I recall correctly. Then again, it might just be another flurry of temporary this and temporary that and let's all come back a few seasons later to gabble again.

Orlane will be coming, as before. Somehow this thought does not thrill me. It's not that he's a thoroughly unpleasant scumball, of course—it's something about that oily matter of his that irritates me to no end.

_**Day 82 of Remmus, 371 AR** _

Another lavishly prepared feast with peacocks in marinade sauce and roasted halibut with garlic and avocado. Nothing I haven't eaten before, but also nothing that I'd wish to eat again.

Orlane and I have settled into the Empire's embassy in Aberon. I don't know if Angela is still here, but if she is, she has made a studious point of avoiding me. Not anything that I wasn't expecting, of course.

Talks begin in two days.

**_Day 3 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

What is he thinking? If Orlane cares to bang his head against the stone of diplomacies, let him. But don't imply that I had anything to do with your idiotic scheme!

Today, Orlane actually spoke during the talks. He's mastered the language of politics well enough that every word from his mouth was even more unctuous than usual, bringing on the weight of the Riders and royal authority to present "our imperative wish of Rider Morzan, the Empire, and I that the government of Surda should allow a certain liberty concerning Riders' actions within Surda, and a weight of responsibility should allow the Riders to command certain aspects of the government, such as the command of a select number of troops or the overseeing and government around the more delicate areas of contact between the Empire and the independent state of Surda."

How dare he drag my name into this? Does he honestly think Surda will agree to any of this? If they do, then that means the intertrade between Surda and the Empire will be entirely under our command. We will also be entitled to keep troops within Surda, which is something they will never allow. Also, as Riders, we will be granted the privilege to muck around the country however we like, and they will be powerless to stop us.

They will never agree to that, and Orlane poses the embassy as naïve fools by even suggesting it. Idiot!

**_Day 4 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

I confronted him about it today, and the sum of his response is as follows—"Well, I thought you'd be pleased. It's necessary. It's needed. Don't you want the best for the Empire?"

The best for the Empire does not entail demanding outrageous things that will never come true as long as Surda is independent! He disgraces us by this foolish request, pressing in a way that contains all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

I will speak to the embassy tomorrow, to try to erase the harm that he has done.

**_Day 5 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

Good. They've graciously bowed over it; Gemsworth and the Surdan ambassador, Maskiron, have moved onwards to more important matters than flaunting our egos in Surda.

Orlane accepted my speech with calmly, his face calm and serene. He does not seem to mind in the least, which in itself is suspicious.

**_Day 7 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

The second draft of the treaty has been written. If it is approved tomorrow, then we are all free to go until further notice. Further notice hopefully meaning a few seasons later, if not years.

Should I tell Galbatorix about Orlane's outrageous request? He should know that Orlane isn't cut out to be an ambassador, for certain.

**_Day 9 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

I have returned to Uru'baen. Galbatorix raised an eyebrow at my report of Orlane's actions, with the hinted reply that I should be wary now. Orlane is not likely to forgive this, no matter what serene mask he may wear.

I'll be ready, in any case. I should renew the ward spells around Norwood just in case, I think. Aderes and I will fly back to Norwood tomorrow.

**_Day 10 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

After returning to Norwood, I spent most of the day with Selena before circling Norwood at night. The ward spells are strong and secure, but I renewed them anyway. If Orlane or any of his nasty magics or minions should so much set a toe on this land, I will know.

**_Day 15 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

Well, there's no sign of anything yet, so I suppose I should relax my guard. Besides, sending a heap of assassins doesn't really seem like Orlane's style. Even for him, it's a bit too blunt.

I am settling nicely back into the pattern of life at home, if I do say so myself. Murtagh seems to have grown. Again. But as I've said before, he's always growing, isn't he?

I think I'll take him flying soon.

**_Day 22 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

Well!

Selena may blush a lot, but when she flies into a true rage, her face goes pale. Her eyes widen, and every single word is laced with the righteous fury of a wronged mother.

I took Murtagh flying, as I've been planning to for months. Unfortunately, Selena did not seem to share this ambition—when we returned (Murtagh being in perfect condition and laughing giddily), Selena was there to greet us with a furious lecture punctuated with much gesturing and screaming.

I acted properly contrite at that time even through Aderes's snide comments in my head, but I can't help but laugh now in the privacy of my study. Selena was just like a tigress protecting her cub, with all the fury and grace of the magnificent feline.

I have an odd sense of humor, I know.

**_Day 27 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

Selena's brother is alive—we received the news just today. I'm not too certain of the precise details, but it has something to do with...well, I'm not sure what. All I got out of Selena was a garbled mess about her father and somebody named Marian before she fled to her room.

She should be relieved, shouldn't she? I hope this doesn't throw her back into shock again.

**_Day 29 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

No shock in sight. All I got was a letter to send back to her brother. I'll send a messenger out with it later.

**_Day 40 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

Orlane has dropped by for a little visit. The alarm spells worked all right, but his demeanor was so friendly it was disarming. And as he has mental barriers, I cannot probe his mind to figure out just what his intentions are.

He does carry with him some updates regarding the treaty in Surda, though. He'll stay with us for dinner and be out by late tonight.

Nevertheless, I will keep an eye on him.

**_Day 44 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

Four servants died today, and many were incapacitated with severe abdomen pain. If I hadn't worked healings upon the servants, I think that the number would be as much as ten times higher.

Damn it! How could I have missed it? Orlane, curse his bloody soul, poisoned some of the food and water with Fricai Andlat. Catimarius, the unfortunate servant who tastes our food before we eat it, is dead. He was one of the first to go.

I should have been more watchful. Even so, Orlane will pay for this.

**_Day 48 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

Aderes and I found him. He was expecting us, of course, hoping to overpower us. Ambushed us in a stretch of deserted woodland on Termain's back.

Idiot. If he thinks he can best me in a display of sheer power, he is  _wrong_. It has always been known to everybody but his own inflated little head, and tonight proved it. He'll turn back—eventually. Maybe by then he'll be so sick of sharing nuts with Termain that he'll behave himself.

At any rate, his looks are much improved as a squirrel, don't you think?

**_Day 49 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

Returned to Norwood. Selena's face was slightly upset, closing the topic of the reason for my absence. My Selena—wonderful, but naïve.

**_Day 62 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

Today Selena asked me if we could go see her brother. He's apparently holing up their grandmother's estate, and that's why he isn't a pile of ashes on the ground right now.

Well—why not? It's a good idea. Sometime in retniw, though, near Murtagh's birthday. I think Murtagh's birthday would be a good time for him to meet his extended family.

**_Day 72 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

Triannon has brought to it to my attention, and I have to say I agree—we need more servants. Norwood only had about sixteen to begin with, and the loss of four is felt greatly. New servants would ease the strain for the ones we have now.

Selena has taken up this task cheerfully. It's surprising just how many prospective would-be servants are out there, even for an estate as infamous as the Rider Morzan's and all. At least a dozen have flocked by today, vying for the positions.

I'll leave it to Selena and Triannon to decide. They are much better suited for this than I.

**_Day 74 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

In the end Selena hired five, just because she couldn't make up her mind. Triannon has also begun taking them under her wing, teaching them the ways of the manor. Incidentally, one of them is her nephew.

**_Day 76 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

I went into Murtagh's room today, intending to take him outside, when I saw that nephew of Triannon's with him. Whatever his name is. Murtagh was  _cooing_ , that sound that he normally only makes around Aderes, Selena and I. Selena didn't seem to mind, either—she was sitting placidly in a chair, reading a book and ignoring the world in general.

Fine. I won't play circles with myself, so I'll admit it—I resent him. That nephew, Tonnac or Tonic or  _whatever_  his name is. This is the first time that I've seen Murtagh interacting pleasantly with somebody as a—a  _friend_. Not a caretaker or a nanny, but a friend that isn't maternal or clucks over everything you do. And it annoys me.

What irritates me most is that I have no reason to feel this way—I can't expect Murtagh to grow up a hermit, after all. I just wish—well, I wish that that nephew hadn't come to work here. So early, so much—I'm not ready to let go just yet.

**_Day 81 of Nmutua, 371 AR_ **

Oh, bloody hell. It's noticeable. Today Selena gave me this pointed  _look_  that said something along the lines of,  _You're being a fool_. And yes, I am. I glower visibly whenever the nephew, Tornac, enters the room, especially when Murtagh follows him like an adoring duckling.

This is  _ridiculous_.Ugh.

_**Day 1 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

It's a new season, and with it has come snow! Selena, Murtagh and I spent the day outside, coated with white pearly flakes. A good four inches have fallen—not bad for the first snow.

Tornac was occupied with chores, which makes me inexplicably smug. Yes, it's a despicable character trait of mine to gain satisfaction in this thought, but I'll just have to live with it.

Selena seems noticeably excited as the tenth of retniw approaches. I must admit that I am a bit enthusiastic myself.

_**Day 10 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

We have left for the grandmother's old estate. We should arrive there in about two days or so. Murtagh seems to enjoy roughing it out in the wild, gleefully romping about the tent and pulling the stakes up. I had to tie them down with magic, in the end.

_**Day 13 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

We have arrived at the estate. Garrow, the brother, was thrilled to see Selena and Murtagh, and guardedly happy to see me. Marian, his wife (I think), was excited to have guests over. The packs of dogs are happy to see anyone who feeds them. They did scatter at the sight of Aderes, however, which is why the great lump is busy sulking. I suppose I'd better go comfort him.

_**Day 15 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

Murtagh is one year old today.

So. It was a party that I think many one-year-olds would envy, were they capable of such emotion. Selena and Marion managed to rustle up a masterpiece of a cake, which was promptly ruined as Murtagh started to throw handfuls of it around. The dogs, of course, were ecstatic—meat isn't the only thing they'll wolf down without pause.

He received a suitable pile of presents, I suppose—a stuffed lion from Marian, a silver knife from Garrow, a quilt from Selena, a necklace from me. He seemed to like them well enough, although I saw Selena squirrel away the knife until he's old enough not to stab himself with it.

Well, it was a good first birthday. I think he liked it, and that's all that really matters.

_**Day 19 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

Garrow and I are both early wakers, I have discovered. Dawn is spent in silence, but somehow there is no connotation of discomfort or unpleasantness about it.

It seems that he has truly accepted me as Selena's guardian now, and as the guardian of Murtagh. In return, I think I have learned to respect him, absurd as that sounds. At least there is no resentment rising up whenever he plays with Murtagh.

_**Day 23 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

We have returned to Norwood. Incidentally, that reminds me—Selena's birthday is in two days, isn't it? Huh. All these birthdays in one season.

What to get her? Once again, that dilemma rises—jewelry, clothes; she has them all. I suppose I could get her another wolf pup, but I suspect that the memories would be too painful. Besides, I don't know if I can find wolf pups again in retniw.

What else, then? What else lives, what other life can be vibrant enough to erase the shadow of Sereda? The only thing that springs to mind right now is a dragon, but heaven knows that'll never happen.

Maybe Galbatorix has an idea? I'll ask him.

_**Day 24 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

I asked Galbatorix, idly throwing the example of dragons at him, at which point he interjected that while dragons were certainly not available, another mythical creature just might be. When I questioned, he reminded me with a lazy smile about our days at Vroengard, and the phoenix nest we discovered there.

To say I was surprised is an understatement, and I was even more shocked when he told me he had a few baby phoenixes in the menagarie. The phoenixes we saw back then were  _huge._ They are much like dragons in the manner that they live for long ages and grow to huge sizes, and roosting mothers are very protective of their young. How Galbatorix managed to steal away baby phoenixes is a mystery to me.

But, well, it does solve the matter of Selena's birthday present. I think I'll go to Uru'baen's markets later, see what else I can add to the gift of a phoenix.

_**Day 25 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

Selena has taken to the phoenix wonderfully. She did seem as surprised as I was initially, though, her face brightening with a blush of astonishment.

Also, I gave her a silver music box that I found in Uru'baen's markets. The craftsman who sold it showed me different cylinders that would play different tunes when inserted, and I chose a lullaby that is well known throughout Alagaesia.

I think she liked it.

**_Day 42 of Retniw, 371 AR_ **

The weather has been oddly warm these past few days, but today it started to drop. Clouds are gathering, too—I think we might have a decent blizzard by tomorrow. At the very least, the next day.

**_Day 44 of Retniw, 371 AR_ **

Yes! The snowstorm hit with a beautiful, wild vengeance. I'm going out!

**_Later_ **

Selena has refused in her most insistent tone to let me go out. Says it's suicide to step foot outside right now. Whatever.

**_Day 46 of Retniw, 371 AR_ **

The storm cleared up enough today for Murtagh, Selena and I to go out. Selena and I got into a snowball fight; Aderes came in a couple minutes later. Murtagh joined in with clumsy but eager enthusiasm—the sight of him trying to lift one of Aderes's snowballs is memorable. He never got them so much as an inch off the ground, but it was a very valiant effort indeed.

The drifts of snow are hip-deep—it will take days, if not weeks, for them to melt. Wonderful!

**_Day 47 of Retniw, 371 AR_ **

Summons from Galbatorix. Via scrying glass, not messenger—the roads are still blocked. It sounds urgent, though.

Aderes and I are leaving for Uru'baen.

**_Day 48 of Retniw, 371 AR_ **

Surda has violated the treaty. Two dozen Surdan soldiers in civilian clothing were found within Empire territory near Furnost—half-dead with hypothermia and frostbite, but in violation nevertheless. Maskiron claims that they were acting entirely on their own—deserters, or something similar. Listening to him, Surda was not intending anything in terms of rebellion and never has.

According to preliminary probing by questioners by Furnost, two of the captured men are sergeants. One of them, who later died, is a captain. Why would they desert? And in the dead of retniw? For what purpose?

Or were they ordered there for some subterfuge mission by the Surdan government in an attempt to undermine the Empire, only caught by nature's wrath? If that were true, it only raises another question—is Surda aiding and/or harboring the Varden, as we have suspected? There is no other reason I can think of as to why they are poking around in the Empire if that were true.

The soldiers are currently held in Furnost. They will be transported to Uru'baen as soon as the roads clear for further questioning.

**_Day 51 of Retniw, 371 AR_ **

They're dead. Every last one of them. Died from 'mysterious, unexplainable reasons;' the guards down at Furnost can't make head nor tail of it. Death-spells, perhaps, to kep them from talking?

Well.

I can't jump to conclusions entirely yet, but this may be cause for war if we truly felt like pressing the issue. Of course, Maskiron will dither and flutter, and there will be diplomacies to slog through before anything definite arises. Still—the treaty states no Surdan soldiers outside the five-mile radius of the border. We do have that particular edge, at least.

**_Day 53 of Retniw, 371 AR_ **

The snow is noticeably melting; only knee-deep now, and what's left is slush. Pity. I rather liked it.

Still, as the snow melts, the likelier it is that I will have to leave. What with Orlane hiding in a hole eating acorns now, the job of playing ambassador's backup will fall solely to me. Galbatorix might try to partner me up again, but somehow I don't think he will.

_**Day 55 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

A magician down at Furnost confirms that death-spells killed the soldiers—the aorta in every one is pinched off. This puts Surda into an even more complicated situation now—if the men truly were deserters, then why bother to kill them in such a clandestine manner? Just ask that we hand them over and do the job publicly.

Those soldiers do belong or are associated with something Surda wants to hide. I'm sure of it.

_**Day 59 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

I won't be here to watch Murtagh grow.

If we do choose to press this advantage, to reclaim Surda—how long will it take? How many seasons; how many years? Gods, he'll be a toddler, an adolescent, an adult in the time it takes to blink. All those years, and I'll have been absent.

The—the order came today. I leave for Surda soon; an emergency council has been called together to discuss the violation of this treaty. I have to scout out the scene, see if Surda  _is_  supporting the Varden behind our back...and it will take so much time. Seasons. Galbatorix estimates one; I, two.

Leaving Selena for two seasons? Leaving  _Murtagh?_  Unprotected? Unguarded? Yes, I know I must...so delicate a job, anyone else would only mess it up. But,  _still_. I just wish...anyway.

Duty is duty.

Aderes and I leave tomorrow.

_**Day 61 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

We left. Arrived in Surda.

_**Day 62 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

Surda offers its humblest apologies for violating the treaty and such. Gemsworth seems positively gleeful, having found a crack in the Surdan façade, shoving it for all he's worth. Miguazaki, the general who's in charge of the troops at the border, has given me a company of soldiers should push come to shove.

_**Day 64 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

Apparently, everything can be blamed upon 'independent, unsupported rebels who act without Surdan knowledge or authority'. For example—the soldiers were independent, unsupported rebels. The mysterious magician who killed them was an independent, unsupported rebel too. Anyone who has ever looked at the Empire cross-eyed is also an independent, unsupported rebel. Bottom line being, they don't know anything, so don't ask them. It's all the fault of  _somebody else_  out there.

So, end result? Gemsworth has pushed for a revision of the treaty. A  _permanent_  treaty, with every single minute detail pounded out so as to avoid 'misunderstandings' between the Empire and Surda again. And it's so amazingly important that the Surdan king himself is coming to the treaty talks, ready to further complicate the webs of politics.

I'm not taking this. The talk is just too smooth, too polished—it's almost as if it's rehearsed. They're falling over themselves to lick our shoes; I think Orlane's tact might even win out here if we asked for it. They're trying too hard to make us forget that there were  _Surdan soldiers within Empire territory,_ who were later killed by somebody who wanted to hide  _something_.

I can afford to wait. They won't be able to keep up this oily semblance much longer.

_**Day 67 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

Nothing seems out of place. Yet, anyway.

_**Day 71 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

Talks are proceeding...the storm seems to have blown over. But it can't, have it? Not yet.

**_Day 74 of Retniw, 371 AR_ **

Hell.

I waited too long, trying to get them to crumble. But it seems that they grow more polished and at ease every day. I have lost my advantage to push aggressively, to demand war or severe retribution as a price for violation of the treaty.

Talks are dragging on at a snail's pace. Now that we have vouched for a  _permanent_  treaty, every single detail must be dithered over before grudgingly receiving the council's approval.

I wonder how everything is at home? They must be having a better time than I am here.

_**Day 81 of Retniw, 371 AR** _

Nothing much else. I am politely but firmly rebuffed from any attempts at investigating, even at leaving Aberon. If they do indeed have something to hide, they have grown remarkably good at hiding it.

**_Day 13 of Gnirps, 372 AR_ **

I can't push too hard against the diplomats for fear of sparking a huge flurry of debate. I'm beginning to think—traitorous as these thoughts are—to just let the offense go. Maybe—well, we can pounce on them for their next Varden-suspicious offense, can't we? This chance is gone.

In other news...I received a letter from Norwood today—they are well, and awaiting my return. Murtagh is learning to write, I can see—big, childish scrawls litter the back of the page. I can't quite understand what he's trying to convey, but it's the thought that counts. I should send a letter back.

Meanwhile, I twiddle my thumbs here.

**_Day 26 of Gnirps, 372 AR_ **

Yes, we have most definitely lost our chance. No, let me rephrase that— _I_  lost the chance. Yes? Brilliant. Just brilliant. Even Gemsworth seems to have forgotten the incident, dismissing it as...whatever.

Well, I can consider it a vacation, maybe? An exchange trip? Aberon does have some very pretty parks and gardens, though they seem to wilter when compared to my memories of Selena's garden. Or perhaps I'm just prejudiced.

_**Day 37 of Gnirps, 372 AR** _

I have purchased several different plants to bring home to Selena. Farther south than Norwood, Aberon has several more tropical plants that don't thrive naturally in Norwood. Selena would like them, I think.

On other news...no, not much. Same as ever.

_**Day 42 of Gnirps, 372 AR** _

I sent another letter to Selena today. Not much to say, really.

**_Day 55 of Gnirps, 372 AR_ **

Galbatorix contacted me via scrying-glass today. He seemed puzzled by my lack of action, by failing to corner the Varden's hold on Surda.

I tried to explain it to him—how I had dallied too long, trying to piece together the discrepancies in their actions. But it sounded false, even to my own ears—even as I tried to explain. He obviously thought so, as he closed the link brusquely.

This...well, I have no one to blame for myself for this. Yet I can't leave until the talks are completed—I must fulfill that part of my duty, at least.

**_Day 69 of Gnirps, 372 AR_ **

What?

I felt something. Just a flash. I wasn't actively looking for it, so I don't know what I felt. But it was a mental disturbance of some kind—a mind, perhaps? A spell? It wasn't there long enough for me to identify who or what it was.

Perhaps it'll show up again? It's something to do, in any case.

**_Day 72 of Gnirps, 372 AR_ **

I haven't felt that mysterious disturbance again, whatever it is, since that day. However, I do have other news—General Miguazaki has been rotated back into the Empire, and General Elander has taken his place. The company of men I've been given has been replaced with new men, too, as their period of required service is over.

**_Day 79 of Gnirps, 372 AR_ **

The treaty talks seem to be winding up. I think. They were talking about writing a conclusion today, which certainly sounds like good news.

_**Day 83 of Gnirps, 372 AR** _

I felt it again. This time I  _was_  actively looking for it (or at least somewhat alert), and I think it's a person. Only what person, I'm not too sure yet. Aderes, of course, thinks it's all in my head and I'm imagining it out of sheer boredom. He might even be right.

**_Day 7 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

Received another letter from Selena today. I'll write a reply later.

**_Day 11 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

It has been quiet these days. Even Gemsworth seems to have run out of steam; the entire committee seems to have gained an air of, "Let's just get this over with, shall we?" Sounds good to me, if nobody else.

I might even be able to return to Norwood soon.

_**Later** _

General Elander wants to see me? Jasper, one of the soldiers, just rushed in, all panicked and eyes wide. I suppose it must be very urgent, though I'm not too sure on why it can't wait till morning.

I should go, I suppose.

**_Day 12 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

No.  _No!_

It's a trick. A lie. A new torture that they've made up to torment me. Aderes is  _not_  dead. He won't be, he can't be, I will not  _let_  him be dead.

They're all lying to me. This has to be a dream, a nightmare, a—a—okay, so fine. We were ambushed. But my mind's just playing tricks on me, because there's no way Aderes could've carried me from Surda back to Norwood if he's dead, could he have? I've been thinking, right, and that's the only thing that's making sense. So you see, it must be a lie. It—it has to be.

I won't believe it.

**_Day 13 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

Aderes hasn't come back yet, but that's all right because you never wake up from a dream until whatever god or demon out there decides you wake up. But maybe, you know, if I go through everything logically, I can figure out why and how Aderes got lost.

And then maybe I can find him sooner. He'll be whining his head off when I do, of course, complaining about the injustice of this miserable world and how completely sad he is, when actually he's been having the time of his life. Typical.

From the beginning. Yes, we were ambushed. The troops Elander gave to me were traitors, which means that I need to inform Galbatorix that the general in charge of the troops at the border is a spy. But anyway, that's beside the point.

So, I went to see Elander, right? Only it wasn't Elander. It was—it was  _them!_  Jasper turned onto me first, followed by the rest of them. Them! The Varden rebels, all of them...when Aderes returns, we'll hunt them down one by one. Together. I promise.

And then after that—after—we fought. We stood our ground and fought, and then Aderes slung me onto his back and then we went. We left. And then Norwood...

Where did I lose him? Where did he go? Bloody hell, Aderes, this isn't funny. Come  _back!_

**_Day 14 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

He's late. I've been waiting for so long, but he never answers me. Not one sarcastic quip or dry remark.

Where did I go wrong? Aderes, I'm sorry, all right? For whatever I did to hurt your feelings. But just answer me. One word. One insult.  _Anything!_  I don't care. Just forgive me, for whatever I did.

Please...

_**Day 15 of Remmus, 372 AR** _

They keep bothering me to knock on my door. They keep calling me, they keep distrating me! Go away. Go  _away_. I'm waiting for Aderes. He always comes back, you see. That's part of being Rider and dragon, after all—we can never leave each other for long. Even in death. Right? If Aderes were dead, I'd know, because I'd be dead too.

And I'm not dead. Just dreaming.

_**Day 16 of Remmus, 372 AR** _

I heard him! Just for a moment, just for a second, but I'd know his voice anywhere. He's fine; I can tell. Just sulking as usual. But he'll be back soon, he promised. I'll see him again!

I'll wait for him. I have forever, after all, don't I? Besides, he won't stay away for too long. He won't. I mean, we might fight (a lot, admittedly), but in reality, we're quite joined at the hip.

You'll see. He'll come back soon.

**_Day 17 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

He's not coming.

Galbatorix came in earlier. Said he wasn't coming.

I don't know what to do.

**_Day 19 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

I've been thinking. I have to kill them.

Kill them all. Kill them for taking Aderes from me. It's the only way I can stop this, just stop everything. Just stop the pain.

It's the only way I can find him.

_**Day 21 of Remmus, 372 AR** _

I don't know where they are. I don't know where the hell Surda is. I don't know anything except that they're all laughing in my face and everywhere I look is another bastard who gloating at me because  _Aderes is dead!_

It's a lie.

All of it. Just a filthy, sick, sardonic lie.

I can't stop it. They don't trust me. None of them do. Aderes was the only one who trusted me, who I could trust. They've vanished, you see. Off the face of this godsdamned earth. Godsdamned Alagaesia and all the cursed bastards who walk it, the lucky sods.

I just want it to stop. Is that so much to ask? But apparently yes, because I'm supposed to be Morzan the infallible, Morzan the great, Morzan the one who never is anything than a stiff, emotionless rock! Gods...

I need it to stop.

**_Day 23 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

Wonder why I never picked up alcohol before. Works better than sleep. Works better than staying awake. After all, what is there to be conscious for? What is there to work for?  _Nothing!_

Aderes didn't know that, bless his little naïve soul. He didn't know the full range of stupidity humanity has. Thank the gods he died innocent. At least he didn't have to face the pissing contests that only humans can come up with. He's a dragon. He's noble. He doesn't have to put up with this.

So, I'll go back to Norwood. Not that there's anything there but the stupidity and idiocy of humanity. Do I care?

**_Day 29 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

They're trying to keep it from me, to hide the barrels where they think I won't look. Hah! They don't know the half of it. Triannon, Selena—they think I'm so stupid that I won't even  _try_  to find it. Witless, all of them.

They're trying to help. Right.  _Whatever_. They're only making it worse...with friends like that, who needs enemies, after all? They only rip the hole further apart. Alcohol—any kind—hides it. It doesn't hurt as much, can't you see? Like those children who ride their first horses—or dragons—there are times you have to let the reins go and let nature take its course!

Gods, Selena. Are you  _trying_  to kill me?

_**Day 33 of Remmus, 372 AR** _

Murtagh keeps getting in my way. He's just a child, I know, and I have to make allowances. But if he crosses me one more time, if he  _looks_  at me one more time—

No!

No...

I need some more to drink.

_**Day 37 of Remmus, 372 AR** _

Selena confronted me today. Tried to talk me out of drinking. Said it wasn't healthy or something.

I'll tell you what's not healthy, Selena—you stopping me. You trying to get me to remember, to rip everything wide open so I can just scream with the pain, right? That's love for you. Harsh, isn't it?

Love. That's at the root of all this. Why do we love, anyway? It's not worth it when the one you love is taken away from you. It's not worth the pain. We should all just be alone, with every man fending for himself. That's the way a perfect world would be—then, there's no way you could be hurt, is there?

**_Day 43 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

I told Selena what happened. What happened that day. That night. I thought it would make it better, like after I told her about my family. But no, it only made it  _worse_. Aderes died because I was overconfident, smug, a self-satisfied heap of testosterone who thought that I could take on anything. Well, guess what, I'm not. Are you happy now, Selena? Now that you know that I'm nothing, are you happy now?

**_Day 52 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

I don't want to be alive. I have no  _right_  to be alive. What kind of cruel fate is that, that Aderes should die and I should live? I'm not worthy of this honor, this—this—whatever you wish to call it. Twice I've escaped it now—with my father, with the Varden—both times, Fate jumped over me while striking down everybody else. Leaving the murderer alive? That's a joke for you.

Maybe I should just die. It would solve a hell lot of problems for everybody. Even Galbatorix. I failed him, after all.

**_Day 55 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

No. I can't die. Not yet. Not now.

I have to find them. I'll work it out this time. Do it rationally instead of just meandering around in the middle of nowhere. I'll scry them, I'll cast out for them, and I'll  _find_  them. And when I do, I'll kill them. Not fast. Not painless. I'll tear them apart from the inside out and watch them beg to die.

And when I do...maybe it'll stop. Maybe I'll be satisfied. Maybe...maybe it won't hurt anymore.

Hah. And maybe pigs will fly, too.

**_Day 59 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

I scryed them. They're outlined against a background, so I know I've seen it before. There are mountains, high up...the Beors. I'm sure of it.

Every one of them—they look so smug, now don't they? Having ruined my life. Well, you just keep smiling, because there won't be much time to do so once I find you. Nobody cares for a hero who's mad with pain, with nothing but the animal panic that always bleeds out from agony and hope.

I'll need supplies. Provisions. Maps. And a horse.

A horse.

Gods curse every single one of them. No—not gods. They don't exist anyway, so why the hell do I swear on their name? If they won't do it, I will. At least they won't stop me from exacting my vengeance, for destroying those sick bastards.

_**Day 65 of Remmus, 372 AR** _

They're trying to stop me. They don't say anything, but the look in their eyes—harsh, accusing. They think I'm mad—violent, just waiting to explode.

Well, maybe I am. No—there's no 'maybe' about it. But that doesn't give them a right to condemn me, or to charge me! They don't  _understand_. Only Galbatorix does, but I have no right to face him. Not after my failure in Surda.

But I won't fail at this. Even though my life is littered with thousands of broken promises, this one I will not forget. Aderes—Aderes will not have died for nothing.

**_Day 72 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

I'm leaving tomorrow. Everything's all set. All prepared. All I need is for the sun to rise, and I'm off.

They'll probably be better off without me, you know. Selena, Murtagh, Triannon, all of them. I've only been a burden these past few weeks, obsessed with my own morbid thoughts. Once the gates shut, they'll probably turn away with a laugh and get into a drunken tizzy with relief.

Aderes. Aderes would have made them understand. Foul-tempered and sarcastic as he is, that dragon has a talent for brutal tact that makes you cry the same time you are comforted. He's like that...

He  _was_  like that.

**_Day 73 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

Left today. Heading southeast. Slow going.

_**Day 77 of Remmus, 372 AR** _

Out here the silence is...unbearable. No one to distract you. Nothing to turn your mind away.

I can hear him, sometimes. It's soft, but I can make every word out so distinctly. It truly is as if he were there, whispering sardonic comments into my ear. Laughing at some hidden joke from beyond the grave.

Am I mad, then? Am I well and truly insane? Or is it—impossible as it may all seem—true? Aderes's last message to me?

I wish there were some way to know.

_**Day 80 of Remmus, 372 AR** _

I tried to stop drinking. I dumped out all the quantites of beer and mead that I had brought, tried to go without them, to finally accept it all. To accept the pain.

But I can't.

I can't. Everything just rushing back with all the sensitivity of a raging bear, and it's—gods, I can't stand it. Why won't somebody stop it? Stop whatever's out there that's causing this? It shouldn't hurt this much, should it? As a physical pain, tearing into your ribs, reducing you to a heap on the ground?

Make it stop! I don't care what it takes—alchohol, drugs, anything. As long as it doesn't hurt anymore.

_**Day 81 of Remmus, 372 AR** _

I found a tavern. Drank a lot. Now it doesn't hurt. Doesn't feel. Doesn't live.

So much better this way.

**_Day 85 of Remmus, 372 AR_ **

Nearing the Beor Mountains.

So tired.

**_Day 1 of Nmutua, 372 AR_ **

Scryed them. They're in a valley. Not too far.

Bloody mountains.

**_Day 4 of Nmutua, 372 AR_ **

I found them.

I can hear them talking. They're lost. Can't find the Varden. Even the dwarves don't know where they are.

How very sad.

So much the better for me.

**_Day 16 of Nmutua, 372 AR_ **

The last one died today. Screaming in a pool of his own blood. Twitching and struggling as I ripped out his throat.

Somehow it isn't as satisfying as I thought it would be.

_**Day 19 of Nmutua, 372 AR** _

Returned to civilization's outpost. Sent a letter.

Can't go back yet. I need time. More time alone.

Almost out of mead.

**_Day 23 of Nmutua, 372 AR_ **

Norwood.

It's another life. Another world, of which I have no part. Not anymore. Not since...Aderes died.

Maybe I shouldn't go back. If I died suddenly—mysteriously—what impact would it have upon the world? A positive one, I daresay...after all, without Aderes, I'm nothing but a drunken sot whose only positive attribute is that I can wave a sword better than most people can.

And that might not even be positive, really. Just ask the men I killed. The men I tortured in retribution for Aderes.

What would Aderes say now?

**_Day 30 of Nmutua, 372 AR_ **

I should go back to Norwood. Nothing here offers relief.

Farfetched at it may seem...maybe something at Norwood will make it better.

_**Day 37 of Nmutua, 372 AR** _

I don't know her anymore. Their eyes are veiled, barely hiding the disgust that they must feel for me. Even Selena is different...every movement is a flinch, every word a declaration of contempt.

And Murtagh. Even a child, he must sense that I am nothing worth respecting. Worth fearing.

Worth loving.

**_Day 40 of Nmutua, 372 AR_ **

I cannot stay here. I'm going back to the palace. There, at least, I'll find some company in the despicable crowd of politics.

Selena...

Selena will come with me. I won't have her fleeing, falling in love with another man. If she despises me, then she'll just have to put up with it. If she scorns me, then she'll not find happiness that is undeserved.

Contemptible? Vile? Appalling? If that's the viewpoint of this world towards me, then I'll take it. Take it gladly, and reciprocate it in return.

_**Day 44 of Nmutua, 372 AR** _

We return to the palace tomorrow. Selena will aid me. She knows magic, and she knows how to fight. She can help me seek out those I need, those I want. After all, just look at what she could do with Glael.

Murtagh will stay here. I don't want to see him—see those childishly accusing eyes, marking my every movement down in an unspoken black list. I don't need that, especially from him. Enough people keep track already.

_**Day 45 of Nmutua, 372 AR** _

Returned to the palace. Galbatorix has accepted me again, allowed me to take up what I can in my old life at the palace despite my failure last season.

Settled into my old quarters.

_**Day 73 of Nmutua, 372 AR** _

Selena is doing well. I taught her well, if nothing else. I can't even see the hate she bears for me anymore—she's very good at hiding her emotions, I'll give her that. She'll need the guile if she's to survive court in the long run.

_**Day 1 of Retniw, 372 AR** _

Start of the fourth season. Might snow soon.

_**Day 6 of Retniw, 372 AR** _

Snowed today. If nothing else, nature's beauty still exists. Shows that there is hope out there, for some people.

It's retniw again. Wonderful. Another season goes by, another season to muck through. Another season to trudge every agonizing minute through.

Another season marks another year. Another set of birthdays.

I'll let Selena go back to Norwood for Murtagh's birthday. She's done well, after all—this might as well be a sort of reward, or whatever.

_**Day 15 of Retniw, 372 AR** _

I left Selena at Norwood earlier. She looked so—happy. So vibrant to see Murtagh again. So happy to be away from me, the tyrannical madman.

Well, it's not anything particularly new, now is it? Still, that look on her face—that joy. Strange as it is. I...it hurt, knowing that she will never show that expression to me again.

And even if she did, I wouldn't deserve it.

**_Day 25 of Retniw, 372 AR_ **

Selena's birthday today. I gave her a small dagger from Uru'baen's markets.

I don't know what I was expecting, all right? Certainly not exhilaration or joy, but maybe contentment? Is that so much to ask for? One small smile?

But yes. It is, apparently. Certainly too much to ask from somebody who hates you.

**_Day 37 of Retniw, 372 AR_ **

How much does she miss everything? Murtagh? Norwood? How much does she hate me, knowing that I deny her everything she wants?

I watched her today. Watched her flirt, watch her seduce, watch her play with the emotions of the men around her. She's beautiful, you know, quite good at what she does. But this isn't what she wants. This is what I force her to do.

How much longer can this go on? This semblance of pleasantry? This...facade?

_**Day 42 of Retniw, 372 AR** _

She killed today. Her first murder.

She was crying. Guilt, shame, remorse flooding her mind with a bitter, angry taste. Self-hatred. Self-reproach.

I wanted...I don't know. Better not to try. Better not to see her flinch if I should try to take her hand.

It's too easy to be hurt if you reach out.

_**Day 66 of Retniw, 372 AR** _

I can't stand it anymore. I can't stand watching her...watching that barely hidden misery in her eyes. Even if she does hate me, it isn't deserved. Or fair.

She doesn't have to be here. Once gnirps comes around, I'll leave her at Norwood. Maybe...maybe it will temper the disgust she feels for me. Maybe she won't be so...so wretched at court with me.

Maybe she'll...

No. That's too much to ask. Too much to ever hope for.

**_Day 1 of Gnirps, 373 AR_ **

Sent her home. Went back to the palace.

_**Day 26 of Gnirps, 373 AR** _

Rained today.

It's so stupid to feel nostalgic, but I do. I long for the days when Selena and I danced in the rain. The days when Murtagh fell face first into the snow and came up laughing. The days when Aderes was alive...

But those days are gone now, and I don't know how to get them back. I'm not too sure that I could...that I could accept them, even if it were within my power.

Aderes. Without him, I am so literally...nothing. Galbatorix won't even give me missions to do now, because I am not a Rider anymore.

All I am is a failure.

**_Day 47 of Gnirps, 373 AR_ **

He's just a child, but children can be...deceitful. They can lie. They can even manipulate, young as they are. And truly, Murtagh is not that young anymore. Two is plenty old enough to start training in the guile of this world.

He doesn't love me. He didn't mean it, at any rate. How could he? Maybe he...doesn't understand the meaning of the word. Maybe he...

He doesn't understand how much love can hurt you. How much betrayal can destroy you.

_**Day 67 of Gnirps, 373 AR** _

I'm leaving the palace. Going to...going to somewhere that might somehow heal things. Impossible as that may be.

**_Day 73 of Gnirps, 373 AR_ **

I reached Isenstar today, where I first met Selena. I thought that...maybe the memory of the place, the silent beauty that lay in the wild...I thought maybe that would bring everything back. Something. Anything.

It didn't.

**_Day 1 of Remmus, 373 AR_ **

First day of the second season.

**_Day 12 of Remmus, 373 AR_ **

It has been one year since Aderes died. One year.

How times change.

_**Day 33 of Remmus, 373 AR** _

I have returned to the palace.

**_Day 68 of Remmus, 373 AR_ **

Galbatorix came to see me today. Didn't say much. Just remarked that people can sometimes surprise you, in a rather unpleasant way.

Well, what did he expect?

**_Day 79 of Remmus, 373 AR_ **

Almost the start of the third season. Almost time for Selena to return.

Does she still hate me?

**_Day 1 of Nmutua, 373 AR_ **

I don't know what to make of the look in her eyes. It seems more...resigned, perhaps? Uncertain, unhappy, but...

I don't know. This is—this is silly. Absurd. But as it is, I can't help but hope that maybe...just maybe, she loves me.

I'm being a fool. Why am I  _looking_  to be hurt again?

_**Day 11 of Nmutua, 373 AR** _

I know  _why…_

I miss it. I miss the security in knowing that somebody will wait for you, will be there for you. I miss the light in Selena's eyes, the blush in her cheeks. Most of all, I miss—I miss the soft, gentle love of another life entwined with yours.

Maybe that's why people love. So that they can have this refuge, this promise of sanctuary. Even the pain, when it is lost—for what can be gathered, it is worth the price.

I lost Aderes. I lost him, and ever since...well, it's my own fault that things have turned out the way it have. But it's...maybe, it's not too late to try to repair things.

Maybe she does— _is_ —willing to accept me.

_**Day 19 of Remmus, 373 AR** _

We made love today, and...in the passion, I could almost believe it. I want to believe it.

But—

She's pregnant. I didn't plan it out that way. But I suppose since she has been pregnant several times already that I have grown sensitive to it. But she is, and does not know it yet.

Once she does know, though...will she trust me enough to tell me? Will she—was the love today real, or simply a falsehood?

I'm not too sure if I want to know the answer.

_**Day 41 of Remmus, 373 AR** _

She found out today; the healer told her.

Now I wait.

**_Day 67 of Remmus, 373 AR_ **

She hesitates. Always, it's  _almost, almost_ —but no. She doesn't.

What does that tell me?

**_Day 11 of Retniw, 373 AR_ **

Murtagh's birthday draws near, yet I have not heard the news from her personally. I'm beginning to think...well, that my conclusions were false. That there is indeed not a drop of love or trust in her for somebody like me.

It hurts more than I would have thought, opening the hole that Aderes left. But I have to hope, don't I? I have to wait. Maybe she's just not ready. She'll tell me in time, I'm sure. I just have to...wait.

_**Day 15 of Retniw, 373 AR** _

I took her home to see Murtagh for her birthday. She was so passionately happy, bringing forth a smile on her face that I haven't seen in such a long time. One that she hasn't shown to me for a long time.

She cares for Murtagh, for nature, for Norwood. But she doesn't care enough to tell me that she is pregnant.

**_Day 41 of Retniw, 373 AR_ **

If we had just met Selena, Aderes would say that I am being a fool, falling over my own feet in a silly attempt to catch her attention. But what would he say to a situation like this? What would he _do_ in a situation like this?

I want to know what she is thinking. What she feels, what she...but to do so, I would have to reach into her mind. Not impossible, of course, but—I'm afraid to know.

I haven't done something like that with her since when we first met back at Isenstar. Back then, her mind was avid curiosity, surprise, and something oddly similar to reverence. If I chose to probe her mind now, what would I find?

_**Day 68 of Retniw, 373 AR** _

She will never tell me. She will never trust me enough to tell me.

I watched her today. Watched her play with Murtagh. Watched her kiss him, love him, and treasure him in a way that she will never show to me again.

I was a fool to try to regain her love.

I was a fool to open myself up to the pain again.

**_Day 80 of Retniw, 373 AR_ **

I have given up waiting. There's no use for it, anyway.

She doesn't care.

**_Day 10 of Gnrips, 373 AR_ **

She loves Murtagh. She loves  _him_ while scorning me.

A  _child_...

Taking my Selena from me. Turning her love away from me.

I can't! I can't. I won't.

 _No_.

_**Day 12 of Gnrips, 373 AR** _

I hurt him...

I don't remember what I did yesterday. I don't remember drinking, and drinking, and finally getting so drunk that the rage explodes to the surface and launches Zar'roc at my son—

Gods, what I done? What have I become? I—this is—this is just something that my  _father_  would do, hurting a child that's so young, so innocent—

But I  _have_  become him. I've become my father.

_**Day 13 of Gnrips, 373 AR** _

I can't stay here. I can't stay here facing him, facing his bleeding body, facing the reproachful eyes of the healers. But most of all, I can't face the betrayal in Selena's eyes, knowing that I truly have destroyed  _everything_...

I have to go. I have to go back to the palace.

_**Day 15 of Gnrips, 373 AR** _

I've been trying to hide, but everything is an accusation at me. And I don't have a rationalization, or explaination, or anything.

Galbatorix came in to see me. I couldn't tell him, but he knows. He—gods, I've disappointed him. Disappointed everyone. If Aderes were alive, he would treat me with the contempt I've richly deserved.

And I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to make everything better.

_**Day 24 of Gnrips, 373 AR** _

I drift these days. There's nothing for me to do, to work at, to distract me. After all, what am I but a dragonless Rider, a drunken bastard like my father who hurt my son?

Nothing can...nothing can bring things back to normal now. Life, everything...it's all been broken beyond repair.

**_Day 32 of Gnrips, 373 AR_ **

One of the dragon eggs are gone.

They tried to get all three, but only one was lost.  _One_ , and one of the thieves was left behind. He told us that the others have gone to Gil'ead.  _Gil'ead_.

I have to do this. It's my only chance. I need to do something, I need something to succeed. Gods, I  _need_  this. It's my only chance to—to somehow repair things, to—it's as if I succeeded at something, nobody would—I could—

Hell, I don't know! I just have to. I  _have_  to. Even if Galbatorix won't send me, I'm going anyway.

I'm going  _now_.

**_Day 35 of Gnrips, 373 AR_ **

_Brom_.

The thief is Brom.

Why do I find this amazingly ironic? Both former Riders, one chasing the other with the intent to kill. There's just something so hilarious about all of this. This situation.

Everything.

_**Day 36 of Gnrips, 373 AR** _

Who am I?

There are several ways you could put that question, I suppose. On the surface, my name is Morzan. A former Rider. A sick, pathetic failure who's done nothing but throw himself further into the filth of politics ever since going mad and losing it all. His family, his dragon, his wife, maybe even his son. Most of all, losing their love and trust.

A fitting eulogy? Or—unlikely as it may seem—may there be something more? Something...

I don't know. Well, that seems to be the sum of my life these days—the mess I've gotten myself into, the alcohol, the lies, the deceit. I suppose, if people even bother to, that I'll be commemorated as a madman. A lunatic. An unpredictable, unstable idiot.

Why am I writing about this? Well, Brom and I have arranged a duel of sorts, I suppose you could call it. It quite gentlemanly, to say the least. We'll be all fine and polite until the business of killing each other starts. If nothing else, one thing is certain—only one of us will survive.

I don't know how this tale will end. Maybe Lady Fate will follow her own predictable path and skip over me once more. Or, maybe, just maybe, she'll surprise me.

Wouldn't that be funny if Brom killed me? If Fate finally claimed me at the hands of ones who life I had destroyed? It seems rather fitting, really, considering how I've paid the favor to others in the past. My debt should be long due by now, I think—my family died, didn't they? Azula, Hestia, Evelyn and  _Murtagh_. And—Aderes. Gods.  _Aderes_.

Full circle. There's a saying about that, isn't there? Something about the wheel turning...I suppose cruel tendencies do get passed down from generation to generation. My father stabbed me, so I throw a sword at my son. My father killed my mother, and I turned Selena away from me from my actions. Either way, everything's destroyed in the end.

So I killed my father. If Brom kills me...well, that's truly déjà vu.

Besides, even if he did do so, I don't suppose there would be much missed. There's nothing left, after all. Nothing but pieces left, fragments of was once a flawless pane.

There's something strangely fitting about that.

**End**


End file.
